


A Hot Mess in Hell

by Angenou



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: F/M, Gen, Masturbation, Multi, Self-Insert, Work In Progress, likely profligate swearing, this is more a writing experiment than anything with a real definite goal in mind
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:26:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 49,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23340928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angenou/pseuds/Angenou
Summary: How Does Diavolo determine when to summon MC? What if he's just guessing, and what if the MC is doing something embarrassing, thinking they were safe in the dark hours of night? This is quarantine madness shitposting, and honestly this will be the first time that I post something with so little of it written in advance. It may never come to a real satisfying ending, but it makes me laugh like hell. I hope it makes you laugh too.
Comments: 21
Kudos: 69





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Angenou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angenou/gifts).



> I swear a lot when I'm not on the clock, and this is written in like, stream of consciousness so it has all the swears I think in. I also decided to write about some mixed feelings I have about being chronically ill. I've changed details here for reasons of plot and privacy, but I've kept a lot of details from personal experience. I'm not a medical expert, so if I get anything weird or wrong here, its because my lived experience is weird and often wrong.
> 
> If you prefer works with a definite goal and a guaranteed satisfying resolution, this may not be the work for you. I like definite goals and guaranteed resolution myself, so I understand, but I'm giving myself the freedom to flail and fail and fuck up with this work. It's my first self-insert and I'm not even a little bit sorry. This is self-indulgent as fuck and I'm having fun with it. I did hold onto it long enough to revise some major framing and structure about the intro, but I'm notoriously bad about updates, and this has chaotic inspiration to begin with. I figure it's only fair to warn anyone who tries reading this what a hot fucking mess you're about to get into. I love you all whether you read all of this or not. <3
> 
> PS Idk if there will be any pairings, and a lot of the magic related stuff I am making up as I go! WOOO

One moment I’m in a thin black cotton nightie shoved up over my tits, on my knees in bed, delicately negotiating a decidedly over-large demon themed dildo into myself, trying to relax and zoning out while staring at my bedspread while I work it into myself slowly, when suddenly my knees are starting to sting and I find that instead of pastel lavender fluff, I’m on a dark, hard, floor. A floor I don’t recognize. And There are choking noises nearby, also definitely not my own voice. Before looking up I drop the dildo and rush to pull the nightie back down over myself.

I look up slowly, and vaguely, quietly, screaming under my breath. There are several men around. A super big-ass dude with dark skin and red hair, a tall pale man with black hair, another slightly shorter man with curly ashy-blonde hair, a similarly sized man with shaggy straw-blonde hair, and a fairly gigantic dude with shaggy red-orange hair. Quietly at first, then up to a shout, “What the FUCK?!” and drop down to sit on my feet, shaking out my nightie to cover the huge, awful, red dildo still sitting proudly between my knees where it fell. I look around and see no answers forth-coming, so I begin to freak out even more. They’re just staring. “I WAS JUST IN MY OWN BED, BEHIND A SHUT-ASS DOOR, LIKE A CIVILIZED DEVIANT, TRYING TO MASTURBATE TO EASE SOME STRESS, AND NOW I’M HERE! WHO IS RESPONSIBLE FOR RUINING THE ONE MOMENT I HAVE HAD TO MYSELF TO RELAX IN 3 STRAIGHT WEEKS?!!”

Some eyebrows are raised but still, nobody looks like they’re about to speak. The curly-haired one is starting to smirk, and is looking lecherously over me, but no indication that anyone is going to start answering me. “Honestly, I waited until it was sufficiently late at night, so my neighbors would be asleep, I had only my nightlight on, and was settling in to have a nice quiet evening to myself, why on God’s green Earth would you fuck with that? What have I done that is so wrong? Is this some awful prank, or did I finally fucking just lose it and this is a stress-induced hallucination? Because, honestly, the last one of those I had was a bit more interactive, this is just stressing me out even worse. Fuck, I’m gonna just sit here and hyperventilate until I pass out. Feel free to wipe my memories if you can, wipe your own memories too, fuck’s sake. I’m just going to keep rambling until the shortness of breath stops me if one of you doesn’t. Fucking inconsiderate-ass weirdos. If you can teleport a whole-ass person, and whatever they’re holding, from their bed, why would you do so just to stare at them like a crazy person? Holy shit. I knew I shouldn’t have taken that last shift, I’m officially losing it. I’m telling that bitch-ass boss of mine that I quit. I have obviously run myself into the ground and need to take some time out from the world to let agoraphobia take me back in its warm, paranoid embrace for a bit again or some shit like that.” Here my voice hitches, and that shortness of breath kicks in. I begin to wheeze as I curl in on myself and tuck my face into my hands as I attempt to slow my breathing and attempt in vain to take in air more deeply.

I don’t know how long this goes on but suddenly I hear them start shuffling around and they start to bicker with each other. I hear random shouting and a few smacks, but I can’t keep track of anything. I know panic attacks are supposedly non-lethal, but I can’t help feeling like maybe this is the one that will finally do me in. Maybe this is it, my heart is even forgetting how to do its fucking job right. The rhythm of my heartbeat is off now too, on top of everything else. This is just super. Death, my old bastard of a friend, come and take me. I’m ready for you.

Suddenly, a heavy, dark cloth is dropped over me, and the scent of sandalwood and amber soothes me along with the new dark. With no light and the nice scent, I begin to gasp and my breaths start to deepen and more of my lungs start to get in on the action. By the time I have some semblance of sense back, I can see bits of fur along an edge of the dark cloth and it strikes me that the black-haired one must have dropped his cloak over me. It reminds me of the hooded woolen cloak my best friend bought me a few years back that I wear to formal occasions because I can flip the hood up and block the light out just as I am doing now when the crowds get to be too much. I take another good minute or two to make sure another attack isn’t going to sneak up on me.

When I remain calm, I rearrange the cloth to sit on my shoulders properly and poke my head out from under it, sweeping it around myself to remain covered in its comfort. I then call out quietly, “Thank you, whoever you are cloak man. That was exactly what I needed.” I then just proceed to hug myself under the cloak and sit in silence. If this is what we’re here for, then I can play the quiet game too.

A deep voice eventually rings out. “Well, we had intended to summon you in your sleep and upon waking welcome you to the Devildom, but we’ve mucked that up a bit. For the oversight and the unfortunate circumstances of your appearance here, you have my deepest apologies.”

He pauses for a moment, so I reply “I accept your apology but I withhold the right to hear the rest of this mess before I make any decisions on forgiveness.”

The red haired giant of a man, or demon, I guess, chuckles and says “That’s fair enough I suppose. You were brought here to take part in our exchange program. We have sent two students each to the human realm and the celestial realm, and are hosting two students from each realm, in order to foster better relations between demons, humans, and celestial beings. You were chosen as one of the two humans to come to the Devildom for a year for this program.”

Before he can go into much more depth about the program I interject. “I’m not even actively a student right now though. I haven’t had an active enrollment in college for like, nearly two years now! I’ve just been working to get by. What gives? How could I possibly have qualified??”

Another chuckle. “Really? I’m not sure how you made it through all the screening to be chosen then. Regardless, we should probably verify some other info before we proceed then. I’d like to verify, are you a witch or do you have any magical power?”

“Uh, I read tarot cards and as a kid the church elders used to have me put my hands on sick people and pray for them because they said my prayers always healed them, and uh, sometimes if I watch incense smoke it speaks to me? I’m not in any coven and don’t practice any real magic intentionally though. Does that answer what you wanted to know?”

“Huh. Well, I’m not totally sure. A lot of humans with no magic read tarot, and I don’t think there’s any magic I know of that makes your prayers more effective than other people’s, so if that has happened enough to be more than coincidence you may have subtle or intuitive healing magic. Capnomancy though is a very old, valid, and real expression of magical ability. It doesn’t sound like you just interpret the smoke either, you actually hear a voice speak to you from it, right?”

“Yeah, a voice, I have no idea what visual cues I’d look for in trying to actually read the smoke.” I’m starting to panic now, I didn’t figure that of all things would be a big deal. My mom never made a deal of it, just always kinda trusted whatever I told her I heard from it and went about business as usual. I almost didn’t say it, thinking it was probably stupid and unrelated to any real magic. Fuck.

“You may have some small magical ability then, but you’re unpracticed, so I think for our intents and purposes we’ll still consider you not to have any powers and proceed as planned. Lucifer here,” at this he gestures to the black haired cloak man I have unintentionally grown fond of, “ will explain about the tasks you’re to accomplish, and the reports we’ll expect from you about your time here.”

Before Lucifer can speak though, I pipe up. “Uhh, I’m not going home then? What about my job and family and apartment and my whole life? How can I expect my life to just be there right where I left off when I’ll be here for a whole year?! What about my cat?!!”

“Oh, no need to worry about that. We have a whole team of experts in memory and mental and emotional manipulation magic who will arrange for everyone to have memories of you talking about going away for an exchange program for months now leading up to this. As for your employment, I have been notified the situation will take some delicate negotiation, but it sounds like there’s a whole discussion we should have that can help sort out a better situation to go back to than you left with. Actually, this is a good chance to teach you something vital to the world you’re about to spend a year in. The Devildom and its inhabitants deal in the trading of favors almost as much as we rely on currency to run our economy and businesses. You’d be doing us such a huge favor by participating that I most certainly don’t see why we shouldn’t negotiate a better lifestyle for you to return to.” He grins at me and something in me can tell it's genuine, but all the same, it’s this boyish mischief painted all over his expression and he is terrible in his beauty. This is truly the temptation of a demon.

It’s too good to be true. I’m going to die here. Or worse. Damnit, but I still kinda want to go for it. No more navigating between two jobs just to make my bills and barely squeak by. I could maybe even have them arrange some way for me to finish a degree. Fuck it, if I’m going to do this I am going all the way. I’ll request a change to finish my degree, fully funded. Let nobody say I was tempted by anything less than everything I can take them for.

I swallow thickly, straighten out my shoulders and stiffen my back, then project as I begin to speak. “I’m in. Just let me know when we should have this meeting about my return arrangements, I have some ideas for how to make this work. My only remaining concern is for my cat, can he come here to stay with me, or will someone be taking care of him while I’m gone? He doesn’t like anyone but me, and he’s very, very large and he’s always willing to be dangerous when he’s unhappy.”

“For now I have someone to take care of him, but we’ll have our meeting first thing tomorrow to talk it out along with the rest. Until then, I leave you in the care of Lucifer, the Avatar of Pride, and my Vice President of the Royal Academy of Diavolo’s student council.”

“Thank you, My Lord. I look forward to our meeting tomorrow.” He nods in my direction, before taking his leave. Once he does, I turn to Lucifer, who is still just behind me, at my side.

Lucifer looks stern, but I can’t find it in me to be intimidated by him. “Yes, Sir?”

I swear I see a small flash of a smile before he smothers it and explains about my D.D.D. and about his younger brother having guardianship over me. He then introduces the 3 brothers currently present, and I am somehow unsurprised that the smirky one is the Avatar of Lust. Wrath and Gluttony both seem to blush faintly, while Asmodeus asks if I have a lot of Bad Dragon toys. I ignore him in favor of calling Mammon, which goes poorly. He seems like a dick. Mentally counting, with Lucifer as Pride, that means we’re only missing Envy and Sloth. Mammon busts in before I can ask about the two missing Avatars, and I barely have time to grab my dildo and make sure the cloak is covering it before Mammon drags me away.

When we get to the House of Lamentation we are met almost immediately by Leviathan, and now only one remains. After Mammon abandons me and Levi first calls me a normie I just can’t help the hysterical laughter. Maybe I haven’t been quite so calm as I thought after all. Between laughter, I cough out a retort. “Normie, he calls the chick who was summoned in the midst of trying to sit on a Bad Dragon Demon Dick dildo.” I laugh another moment before finally calming, tilting my head and deciding I might as well put it all out there while I’m here, in the middle of this train-wreck disaster of a night. Poor first impressions all around!

I’m equal opportunity with making an ass of myself in front of people. “Listen, buddy. I would check my Ao3 bookmarks before deciding who’s a normie. Not to mention, the massive amount of anime and manga I keep up with, despite how little free time my jobs leave me. God, and when I have the time, the sheer number of hours I lose on gaming. My friends have hidden the icons for my Civ games in hopes that I forget those games are installed, as if I don’t just open my Steam library if I really want to game anyway. Get rekt, nerd. Now show me my room.”

“Demon Dick, really? That’s the one you had to go for? Pff.”

“As if that’d be my only one! That’s just the one I’d opted for tonight when thinking about which toy to go with. It’s the only one I have without a knot, so it would be better to just ride until I had fucked myself stupid. It’s about your goal for the session, not just aesthetics! You amateur!”

He huffs at me as we walk. “Fine, I have to give you that. On that note, did you really land in the student council room in the middle of trying to use it?”

“I did. I had my nightie all pulled up to my neck and was in the midst of trying to ease down onto it, I didn’t even get to really get more than the tip in before those fuckers summoned me. Asmo appears to have enjoyed seeing it, but Beelzebub, Satan, Lucifer, and Diavolo had the decency to not act like creeps about it. Lucifer even lent me his cloak when I started to have a panic attack.”

“Probably took him a minute to pull the stick out of his ass before he did though, right?”

“Yeah, I was definitely having trouble breathing for like a good minute or longer before he dropped it over me.”

“Sorry, you’re definitely not a normie. That sucks, what a shitty way to land here. We can talk series another time, for now try to get settled in, nobody should bother you until tomorrow morning, and you have an attached bathroom if you do want to try to use it before getting to sleep. Sorry again, on behalf of my shitty brothers. Asmo and Mammon are both kinda awful.”

I thanked him with a quick smile and shut the door firmly behind myself. I noted all the plants and sweet whimsical furniture, such good vibes, and made my way to the doorway I figured must be the bathroom.

I got it in one, and after taking a moment to admire the cute claw-foot tub I washed my toy, stared at it for a few moments before deciding that without my lube it was not worth trying as I’d just hurt myself. Not relaxing at all. I tucked it away in the cabinet that had been stuffed with towels, bath salts, and all other manner of self-care things.

I opted to shower, and after washing up and crying under the hot water spray for a good long while I dried off, slipped into a soft, thin shirt from the chest of drawers in my new room, and crawled under my new covers.

One bright side to being in hell instead of my shitty apartment is that the hot water seems to have no end, and the ambient temperature is pretty warm. I’m not paying for power here either, so it will probably stay warm all the time! Ugh, I might just be tempted into seeing if I can stay here forever.

The next morning there was some bashing of my door going on, so, groggy and half-asleep, I swung myself out of bed and answered the door. To silence. And a very blushy tan face. Mammon was a very cute pink, and looking down.

Oh. I didn’t have the emotional energy to look at what underwear had been provided when dressing last night. Fuck, whatever. Now Levi was the only one who hadn’t seen my bush. He’d talked to me about masturbation methodology though, so I guess everyone’s all square. “Fuckin, whatever. Get inside so I can shut the door and wake up and get dressed.”

I waved him in, he floated in behind me, and stepped aside to let me shut the door. I walked back to the bathroom to tie my hair up and wash my face and just let him stay in silence as I did. I don’t have the spoons to manage his emotions for him right now. Hell, I likely don’t have the spoons to manage my own emotions right now.

After tying my hair into a vague approximation of a bun and sliding on one of the fabric headbands that had been provided, I began splashing my face before trying to apply cleanser and whatnot. The water remained the only noise, but the nice warm water was doing its job and I was already feeling more awake and aware. Dripping everywhere, I looked around until I found a facial cleaner bottle, and got to washing up, and then brushing my teeth. I patted my face dry and pulled off the headband, then untied my hair, and brushed it out into a long, fluffy, dark brown mess of waves.

Finally washed up, I made my way out into the room itself again to find Mammon sitting on my unmade bed, with his head in his hands. I left him be, and dug around until finding the bottom drawer was the underwear drawer, and picked out a pair of black cotton bikini cut panties to slide on. I whipped the shirt off, and pulled a black halter bra over my head and shimmied it into place. Thusly covered in all important areas, I turned back towards my warden. “Well? What the fuck, bruh?”

He picked up his head, incredulous, and just let the word vomit slide out. “You really showed up in the middle of trying to fuck yourself didn’t you? That’s why you’re so unphased by me seeing you half naked, isn’t it?” I nodded. “I thought they were fuckin with me. Shit. Sorry. I did actually come here for a reason.” I wave my hand at him, as if to motion to get on with it. “Lord Diavolo expects you to join him for breakfast, and I gotta escort you there to make sure you travel safely.” That answers the question of whether I should head straight there or not.

“Fair enough. Now, for this breakfast meeting, should I go for casual, or wear one of the dresses I saw in the wardrobe here?”

“Casual, fuck whatever Lucifer says about it, Lord Diavolo is pretty cool about dress codes and shit.”

“Hmm, alright.” I dug around and slipped into a pair of black denim skinny jeans and just hugged my ass this side of “appropriate” and pulled on a gray lace v-necked cami and a big slouchy navy blue knit sweater. I picked up 2 pairs of shoes and turned to ask Mammon’s opinion. “The ballet flats, or the peep toe kitten heels? I feel like the flats encourage him to forget he’s seen my pussy, while the heels say IDGAF what he’s seen.”

“You’re a fucking disaster. If you really don’t give a fuck, go for the heels. They’ll do great stuff for your ass, and I feel like that can’t hurt whatever you’re walking into. Otherwise, the flats will make you feel more secure, which is definitely going to be something he can see through. He will know if you’re bluffing.”

I shrug and step into the heels. I mildly give a shit, but how my ass looks is higher in my set of priorities in general. I turn around once they’re on and ask “Do these jeans make my ass look fat?”

He’s silent for a minute, as if debating what the right or wrong answer is before saying “Absolutely.”

“Perfect! Now, should I keep the loose waves, or put my hair up?I don’t have the energy to use a curler or whatever right now.”

“The waves give off the image of you being freshly fucked, putting your hair up will probably make the knit cardigan make you look vaguely like you’ve got your shit together.”

Up it is then.

“I think I saw a clippy claw in there, should I clip it up, put it in a bun, or just go for a ponytail?”

“Fuck if I know, dude. As long as it's not pigtails you’re probably fine.”

I shudder in revulsion. “Please tell me that’s not like a thing he’s known to be into.” I did see a clippy claw, claw it is. I’m a lazy asshole who loves clipping my hair up in a twist.

Mammon laughs as I slip on my glasses and feather my bangs into falling not directly over said glasses. I walk out as he responds. “Not that I know of, but good grief you look like a fucking hot librarian or some shit. I’m not sure we made the right choices in dressing you now…”

“Oh, that’s my usual vibe, so that’s fine. Will just the cardigan be warm enough, or should I grab like a scarf or whatever too?”

“If you’re a wuss about a breeze then you’ll probably want a scarf, but the cardigan should be fine.”

“Scarf it is then.” I grab a plush, gray, loose knit scarf and swing it around my neck. “Sweet, let’s make like a tree then.”

“I hate you already. It is going to fucking suck babysitting you.”

I laugh merrily before taking his arm and looping my own arm through it. I find out that he has to head to school after leaving me at the palace, so someone else will guide me home when the time comes. If it runs long enough, I can text him to come get me, but I think we’re both hoping it doesn’t come to that.

I’m greeted by a green haired butler with an asymmetrical cut at the doors who shuts the door in Mammon’s face and promptly sweeps me away to a bright little sun-room set for breakfast and tea already.

I make a half-assed bow at the waist when I greet Lord Diavolo, before he motions to a seat next to him and I plant my ass there, happy to be off my feet. I forgot to consider that I’d have to wear the new heels in, they’re killing my achilles tendons. I hate pinchy heels.

Barbatos, apparently the name of the butler, pours me a cup of Earl Gray, and sweeps away again to do whatever it is that he does before I can properly thank him.

I decide to serve myself what appears to be some delightfully thick oatmeal and peanut butter looking stuff that I find out is actually cashew butter, with a handful of mixed berries while waiting for Diavolo to ask me what he wants to know. I love cashew butter. I might love this demon for keeping it around too. Yum!

After finishing the breakfast roll he’d been in the midst of working through, he reloads his plate with finger foods and decides to start the interview. “You mentioned some odd circumstances with your school enrollment and work, which I had Barbatos check last night when I got home. Can you tell me from your point of view how this came to be?”

“Yeah, I’m technically valid to enroll for classes at any point I want, as I’ve kept up with financial aid paperwork and whatnot, but I can’t afford classes so I haven’t actually taken any in right about 2 years. I had been going under some grants, but I got sick and my grades dropped and I lost funding. Since then I had to start working to pay medical bills, and I make too much working to qualify for any more grants, but I’m like, barely breaking even since I have so many bills to pay and I’m only earning minimum wage. I make enough to get by, but not enough to go back to school. Not without assistance I don’t have.”

“Is this an unusual circumstance to find oneself in, in the human realm?”

“I dunno about other countries, but in the US it’s common enough. School is expensive as fuck, and the medical system is set up to suck you dry of any and all funds they can take you for. I’m chronically ill, on medications constantly, and I frequently need to see a specialist to have them run more tests on me, so there’s no just waiting to get better to go back. I’m always going to need to pay medical bills. Eat the rich.”

“Eat what?” He looks alarmed, so I feel the need to explain.

“Sorry, force of habit. It’s a phrase used to express discontent with the socioeconomic disparity in the human world lately. We don’t actually practice cannibalism, but honestly, given the chance, I’d sure as hell help other people cook those bastards up even if I couldn’t ever bring myself to eat it. Just on pure rage and principle alone.”

“The human world appears to be in more dire straits than I had been led to believe. You seem to be so sensible, please, tell me, it sounds like war is nigh. Is that true?”

I sigh heavily. “Probably not, there’s certainly enough poor people that we could pull off war, but the rich have their propaganda game on point, so not enough of the lower classes agree for them to be a threat. A lot of the very poorest people believe that giving the rich more money will really trickle down to create more wealth for the rest of us, and thus, support all the legal structures that make the rich richer and the poor poorer. People are trying to educate them, but I don’t think my lifetime will probably see anything come of it. Most people my age don’t think we’ll live to see any real change by this point. We’re used to the idea that we’ll die poor, likely ill, and will leave a dying planet to our children because of global warming. Cynicism and dark senses of humor run rampant in popular culture because we all know that if shit doesn’t change soon, and change drastically, we don’t stand a chance.”

He looked like he was in pain, and very conflicted. “On the one hand, if I didn’t value balance between the realms so much, this would be the perfect time to sweep in and sow chaos, on the other, I know I can’t really interfere for your benefit either. I almost wonder if we should just keep you here and build you a life here. That seems like a bad place to head back to.”

I wondered if he’d bring up what a golden opportunity it was for forces of actual demons and evil to just come up gangbusters from all the unrest. I’m surprised by the sentiment about keeping me here, that’s absolutely not where I saw this going, but I’ll run with it if I get a chance. What a soft touch he is. “I appreciate your saying so, but I’m already worried enough about how I’m going to manage one year without human medical care, I don’t know that trying to stay even longer would be rational. If that weren’t a concern, I certainly learn quickly enough to adapt to anything you can throw at me. If I had to recommend myself as particularly good at any one thing, it’s likely being able to read between the lines and diplomatically keep the peace among small parties.” Yeahh, interview skills. I dunno if I’m selling myself too hard, but it won’t hurt to plant the thought.

He looks constipated, but pushes through whatever mental block he’s working through to say “Honestly, magic could probably fix you up. It’d probably be meddling according to the Celestial realm, but I think if it’s just you, I could get away with it.”

I’m overcome by a pulse of hope like I haven’t felt before, but it fades into pain, anger, anxiety, and so many other emotions that I lay my hands flat on the table to brace myself while it washes over me and through me. That magic could fix it would be like a dream, but knowing so many others personally that I’d want to feel better too makes the joy of it seem unfair. He probably can sense that my sense of justice would have trouble swallowing such a thing. Devils are supposed to tempt humans though, so I can see why he’d go and say it anyway. I know magic has to have some price, and it would mean leaving my whole life behind to stay here. There’s no way they’d cure me and send me back. I can’t even bring myself to ask, I can see it in his eyes as he watches me work through my feelings.

“I will need time to consider the full ramifications of such a choice, if this is a genuine offer. Would there be any temporary arrangements we can make for my medications so I can properly make the choice?”

“We’ll have to have someone evaluate you personally to be sure the magic would work, and what the magic needed would be, that way we know what kind of price you’d need to pay for it, but if we bring someone in to do it, you’d have to have committed to doing it before then. Any magic user we bring in on it would be liable along with us, so we’d have to move quickly and go through with it as soon as possible afterwards to avoid the paperwork and political nightmare it’d be sure to bring along with it. This is absolutely one of those situations where it’s better to ask forgiveness than permission. I can send someone to the human realm to get the medications from your own home if you can advise where we’d find them. Depending on how much you have left, that would be how much time you have to make the choice.”

“Yeah, of course, it’s all in the cabinet behind my bathroom mirror. And I actually just refilled earlier today, it's part of what made the day so stressful, so I have a full month of medication.”

He smiles grimly at me, and suddenly Barbatos is there, assuring us that he will see to it that he gets the medications to me before the day is out. I don’t even know what else to ask to know what I have to think on it all, so I take the moment to shove more oatmeal in my mouth. Lukewarm that it is now, Diavolo waves his hand towards the bowl and suddenly it’s comfortably warm again, and it’s melting the nut butter and fruit into it, it’s heavenly. Which is, well, kinda funny. “If I did stay, would it be possible and safe to have my cat brought to me? And would I have any way to send communication to my family, even rarely, or would I be pretty much cut off, cold turkey?”

He considers a bit before answering. “It would depend on what we do with your living situation. You’d never be able to live alone here, you’d need at least one powerful demon to share your residence, for your safety, so we’d need to know who that would be to say whether it would be safe and reasonable to bring in your cat. It is technically possible, and we can put a collar on them that will protect them from the miasma here, but the wrong demon would likely be a hazard to the cat.”

“And I don’t really know anyone here yet. We definitely had this conversation way too soon for this to be a truly productive talk. Fuck me.”

Diavolo seems to choke for a moment at this, but by the time I look up his expression is serene and nothing appears to be wrong.

“If I decide I want to go for it, and we bring in someone to evaluate me, what happens if there isn’t currently any magic that can fix it, or if the price is too high to do it?”

The constipated look is back, this time with level 10 conflicted feelings battling in his eyes.

He takes long enough being conflicted and constipated looking that I finish my oatmeal and serve myself some bacon, eggs, cheese, and salsa in a tortilla. It’s kind of a sad breakfast burrito, but it’ll do. After the burrito, I snag another tortilla, which I ask him to wave heat for me, which he does, distractedly, I spread it with butter and shake a shitton of cinnamon sugar on it before rolling it up and munching on it with subdued glee.

“You just had to ask the hardest questions before I had time to even consider them, didn’t you?” His voice is rough and low, clearly he’s more distressed than I initially realized. I turn to face him fully and grin sadly at him. He sighs, and continues. “I will unfortunately have to do some research before I can answer your question with any certainty. This part makes me glad we had this talk right away instead of further down the road, this means I have more time to research and get back to you and still give you enough time to make your choice properly.”

“Before you can forget, you never answered about contacting my family. What would that situation look like? That alone could decide for me.”

He looks put out that I remembered this question, but he does answer anyway. “The only regular contact you could have would be email or physical letters. On special occasions you might be able to get permission to visit, but it could by no means be common, and you’d need an escort each time. Phone calls and instant messages would not be compatible, so sending letters either electronically or physically are all we could get to go through without a trace.”

It’ll all be monitored and every word subject to scrutiny as they pass communication along, I’m sure, but that’s not the make it or break it answer I was hoping for. It’s not great, certainly not ideal, but I haven’t really been a regular visitor in recent years anyway. “Unfortunately that does not make the decision easier to make one way or another. The only major thing is the question you need to research then. I will still think over things with the information I do have, but I won’t be able to set my heart on anything until I know the worst possible scenario we could be up against.”

“It would make my research easier if I knew what illness we’d be up against. Is that information you could provide?”

“No, not really anyway. I’ve yet to get a diagnosis. I get ulcers almost constantly, unless I take my medications, and sometimes even then. My whole GI tract is dotted with scar tissue from all the ulcers, so I have frequent issues with nutrient absorption too. I do know for certain that I have issues with hypoglycemia and anemia though. Those two I can and have always coped with, but the ulcers are recent, as are these awful headaches I need medical help to cope with.”

“I will see what can be done. It might be worth having a medical professional from Devildom examine you to see if we can diagnose anything, or if we can improve on which medications you should take. Would you be fine with doing this if I can make the arrangements for it with someone well enough acquainted with the human body?”

“If you can find someone, sure.”

“I think we have a plan to move forward with, then. Barbatos will deliver your medications to you once we’ve obtained them, and I will send for you once I have more information on our pending questions. You’re very bright, it has been a pleasure to speak with you. Enlightening as well, certainly.”

“You’ve been most generous, thank you so much for taking the time out to speak with me. And even if it doesn’t pan out, I am very grateful that you’d even offer such solutions, despite what risks it may pose to you and your goals. Know that I will still do my part to make this program successful no matter what the outcome is.” I’d feel bad pushing him to find a way to make it work if it's just not possible, if the whole thing is just to make sure that this program of his succeeds. As dumb as it seems to feel bad for the Prince of what amounts to Hell as far as I know, I do feel it. He seems sweet, his distress over the state of the world as I know it appeared genuine. Plus, he could spin his keeping me around as wanting more in depth guidance in harmonious relations with humans. Being diplomatic is my specialty. Lifelong practice has made me a master of seeing between lines that are barely there, and using what I see to keep the peace. It’s amazing what kind of skills growing up in a broken home fosters in a kid.

We both finish eating, and I try to stand up to walk over to the wall of windows behind us to take in the view of such a lovely, if perhaps dark sun-room. Star-room? Whatever. My legs don’t hold my weight, and I fall back into my seat immediately. “Sweet. This is new. My legs don’t feel numb. Imma try that again.”

I brace my arms on the arms of the chair and try to lift my hips to shift weight more slowly to my legs, but it's not happening. My arms are the only thing holding me up. By now, Diavolo has made his way to his feet and is standing in front of me holding a hand out. I warn him before taking hold. “I will probably be unable to hold up my weight once I’m on my feet under your strength, but let’s give it a go.” I put my hand in his huge one, and he pulls me up easily. I have no means of balancing or holding up my own weight, so I crash against him. He dances back and forth with me for a moment as we try to get me standing under my own power, but it’s not happening.

“It appears we’ll need that doctor sooner than later anyway. Here,” He then sweeps me up into his arms in a princess hold, and takes off. “I’ll take you to a bedroom and make some calls. I’m not sure what happened, but I have a few ideas.”

“I’m so sorry, I can’t apologize enough for throwing off your day more than I have already. I can’t thank you enough for doing so much to help me.”

He squeezes me tightly for a moment, but doesn’t reply. He eventually does get to a bedroom where I am deposited on top of the sheets and he promises to come back with news soon. I try to test my range of movement as I lay there. I can wiggle my toes and move my feet about at the ankle. I can shift my legs around and even bend my knee a bit, but I just have no strength at all in my lower body. Lovely. I hope this doesn’t get worse. I wonder if it's that miasma he mentioned when talking about my cat.

Some time later I fall backwards, unable to hold myself up in a sitting position, I can’t help but wonder if I’ll have the physical strength, the bodily integrity to keep breathing for terribly much longer. That’s where paralysis gets ya, I if I recall correctly, if your chest can’t move, can’t accommodate intake of air and your heart beating, then that’s it. I’m such a cheery bitch.

Thankfully the ‘doctor’ Diavolo called for has appeared, and I can already tell, he’s a demon’s equivalent of a weeb, but he’s into humans altogether instead of just Japanese people. Fuck. I hope he does know enough about us biologically to do some good.

After an alarmingly quick magical scan he lets out a big huff of air and his whole posture loosens, he cracks a smile and starts to reach around in his coat pockets. I can’t really speak up to give him a hard time, but I guess he can tell by the tension in the air and starts to talk while he looks for whatever it is he’s in search of. “You’re just remarkably sensitive to the miasma, or you weren’t given any Devildom food or drink before now. I have a bottle of juice around here somewhere I can help you drink that will help.” Diavolo goes pink and shrinks into himself a bit.

“I figured you’d have had something last night and wanted to make you feel at home by providing a bunch of human realm food for breakfast this morning. I’m so sorry, Cherie! I wish I had thought to ask first so you could have avoided all this drama and the fear you no doubt were made to suffer while waiting to find out what went wrong. I will find a way to make this up to you, I swear it!”

The human weeb, heeb? The heeb has finally found the juice, a startling deep red, opaque juice, and is making his way over to be closer to me. I do my best to open my mouth and move my neck to lean up, but it only barely moves. He hefts me up by my shoulders and starts to pour some of the juice into my mouth, giving me time to swallow small mouthfuls before giving it another go. It’s coppery and tart, with the oddest underlying sweetness. It’s not bad though, and soon enough I can feel control of my body returning to me. Halfway through the bottle I can sit up fully under my own power and shuffle my hips to do so. Not long after I can move and lift my arms again, and he hands the bottle over, instructing me to finish the whole bottle. I’ll need actual food too, but this should last me until Barbatos can bring something for me. Meat preferably, which works for me, given how juice usually fucks with my blood sugar levels anyway. I say as much, and I feel as if this was the wrong thing to do. He then starts asking me all kinds of questions about how I manage my blood sugar, how I monitor it, and only seems to remember that my mouth is otherwise occupied once he finishes babbling questions at me long enough to sit and wait for an answer. He flushes, and bashfully tacks on a “take your time,” as a reminder that I shouldn’t just chug this shit and have it over with. He does proceed to scan me magically as I drink, and I wish I could tell what any of the symbols mean.

Once I finish I take the time to reassure Diavolo that I don’t blame him for the situation and thank him for having Barbatos get something for me first, then turn to the heeb to start talking him through what he wants to know while he does some more in depth scans that require physical contact, and the taking of some samples of blood. He’s ass over teakettle when I tell him I manage by feel instead of with a monitor most times, but when I explain how long I’ve had to do this, he realizes I’ve had my whole lifetime to get used to how different glucose levels feel to live in.

When Barbatos arrives, he has a sandwich overflowing with what appears to be something like pulled pork, which I am advised is actually smoked havoc devil. Sounds horrifying, but legit pretty tasty. I can taste a rich meaty flavor under all the sauce. Between bites, I alternate compliments on the food and explain that if we can accommodate small amounts of food I can snack on constantly, that’d likely be for the best as that’s how I normally maintain my blood sugar, and now with worries about miasma resistance, it seems doubly important to always have food on hand. Diavolo agrees to ensure the school won’t give me a hard time about eating in class, and tells me he’ll work things out with the brothers to make sure I have the supplies I need to make it work.

Once I’ve finished 2 of the sandwiches and a side of some mixed Devildom veggies I didn’t pay attention to the names of, we decide it’s time to test to make sure the doc was right. The doc has left already, with reassurances that we’ll hear from him soon with his official thoughts on the scans and samples he took, but Diavolo stands just nearby, ready to catch me should I fall. I stand successfully, and immediately give in to the urge to jump around and do a little jig. Diavolo is grinning at me, so I launch myself into his arms and thank him for everything. Slightly baffled, he accepts my thanks and lets me know he’s going to bring me with him to RAD to the student council room so I can meet the other human and the 2 students from the celestial realm.

The walk over is nice enough, Diavolo lets me hold onto his elbow and keeps up some chit chat about hobbies and school habits along the way. When we get to the student council room, he walks me over to a chair to make sure I don’t fall over before turning to introduce me. He apologizes for the delay and just briefly mentions that I had some difficulties as a result of a strong reaction to miasma. Solomon seems overly interested in the miasma reaction, so I just explain to him that I hadn’t had any Devildom food to eat within a quick enough period of time. He seems to realize something, and accepts it and moves on. He looks speculatively at me while he thinks I’m not looking, but remains reserved. A shifty fuck.

Simeon and Luke are cordial and sweet and overly concerned about my sensitivity. They seem to take it as a sign that my soul is too pure to spend too much time here, among demons. Simeon is quieter and more reserved in his speech, but his face is expressive enough to speak volumes. “If you don’t feel comfortable telling any of them, please feel free to come to me if you think you need to leave Devildom.” He whispers to me when he gets a moment unobserved. Luke is tugging on my sweater, trying to hold the whole of my attention, and it’s like one of my nieces or nephews is here trying to get me to look at everything while they explain the world. He babbles about how untrustworthy the demons are, and I mean, they’re demons, I already know my immortal soul is like, constantly at risk here and I say as much. After a few repetitions he seems satisfied that I know.

They immediately offer to arrange weekly get togethers at least, out of politeness and curiosity, I accept. We agree to talk about the details later, after I get my schedule and get a chance to settle into my workload. Once they’re programmed into my D.D.D. they sweep out and once again I am alone with Diavolo. I am overwhelmed, but ready as I’ll ever be, so I ask what’s next. “Am I to attempt to start classes today? Or what do we have scheduled next?”

Diavolo gives off a little laugh, pats me on the shoulder, and says “Oh no, I couldn’t think of having you go through the stress of starting immediately. Especially after the morning you’ve had, but I hadn’t planned on your first day being in classes anyway. If you’re up to it, I’ll be taking you on a tour of the school, showing you what your travel between classes will be like, and going over your schedule with you. Usually I’d have someone like Lucifer or another student council member do this, but I’m already out of classes for the day so I might as well do it myself.” He grins at me a bit like a boy about to get into some mischief, and continues. “And it’s not like they should get all the fun of skipping classes to show you around, should they?”

I see now, even the Student Council President likes to skip class every now and then. “If someone has to play hooky to give me a tour, I can think of nobody better suited than your royal self, My Lord.” I give him a winning smile and demurely offer my hand to him. He accepts and uses it to help pull me to my feet before tucking my hand into his elbow. Such a gentleman, gentle demon? Such good manners, anyway.


	2. A Very Long Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord Diavolo finishes our tour of the school, I meet Leviathan at the House of Lamentation after, Barbatos delivers the goods, and Lucifer and I clash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, there are two baths here kinda. One is just for soaking and being in hot water. Yes, I have in real life done this where I soak in the bath in the middle of the day and take my nightly shower still after. Trust me, for my skin type this is super not weird. I bathe a lot. It helps.
> 
> One self-love scene, I tried to keep it short, but it is there.
> 
> This is still highly experimental writing, but a lot of plans for it are starting to come together in my head. The further I get into this the more I want to write for it. Canon is a guide, I don't think I'll be following it very closely at all.
> 
> Yes, it's only been a day. A very long day, in story, but this is part of the experiments I'm doing with pacing. Please let me know how it feels, if you have any feelings about it.

Lord Diavolo shows me around the school while pointing out where certain classes are held and clubs meet, and we stop in the cafe to have a snack. Here he explains what to look out for if I don’t have one of the brothers nearby to tell me if a food is safe for me or not. Apparently only half of the shit with poison in the name is actually toxic, and half of the shit not toxically named is legitimately toxic to humans. I stop him part way through to start a note on my D.D.D. and have him repeat notes to remember with me.

I can’t be assed to be offended when he laughs, so he’s got stitches in his side and sore cheeks by the time this conversation finishes. He apparently gets the giggles every time I bitch about the stupid idiosyncrasies of Demon nomenclature. I almost hope I have to go home after this year just so I can spend the rest of my life living piously and generously so I can go to heaven and avoid all this bullshit for the rest of eternity. I must have muttered as much, because Diavolo is now playing at being offended while trying to goad me into admitting I’ve been having fun so far.

I don’t think I have so far? But hey, humoring royalty is like manners 101, so I agree. He can tell I’m lying, but gives the appearance of gracious acceptance. The manners on this big-ass demon are enough to make this awful heart of mine flutter, and I hope he can’t tell that too. His face is still the very image of graciousness but I feel like he does in fact know, it’s something about the twinkle in his eyes and how it looks like an ornery kid peeking out through the eyes of a giant, adult demon prince. Why pretend I can’t see through him? “Oh hush, there are weirder kinks out there than good manners, you creep. Let’s move on to whatever’s next.”

He should try to keep me around just for the sake of how much I apparently make him laugh. Every court needs a jester, right? In any case, after the cafe is the other half of the school, more classrooms and finally I’ve seen everything of import. “Levi is probably at home already doing some of his classwork online, so I’ll walk you back to the House of Lamentation. If he is there, do have him show you how the online class program works.”

I nod and hum agreement, and before I know it I’m at the doors of the “House” again. I thank his royal highness and duck inside to see that Levi has come down to greet me.

“Lord Diavolo texted me that he wanted me to show you how to access the online classwork, so come with me to my room. My computer is booted up already, we can set up the laptop provided for you later.”

Once we’re in his room he sits at his computer, and with no other real seats around I can either try to sit on him, his desk, or halfway across the room on his bathtub bed thing. I’ll give him a minute to talk before I decide which.

“Alright, down to business. I will explain about school stuff later, but first there’s the payment I need to get back from Mammon that he used you to dodge last night.”

“Listen, you’re not about to hold me responsible for my assigned guardian’s debts. That’s not how this is about to work, kay?” One of my hands is pointing directly in his face while the other sits on my popped hip while I lean into his space. “I don’t mind helping if I get something out of it too, but that asshole is capital T Trouble and I want none of being on his bad side.”

He leans forward and waves his hands around to interrupt my train of thought. It works. “Hey, hey, hey! Calm down! I’m not suggesting you take responsibility for his debt. I actually thought of a plan that gives you extra power here, and gives me a way to get him to pay me back. We both win if we do this right.” I nod and lean back to recenter my chest over my hips and straighten out of his personal space bubble. He grins at this and continues. “So, I’m sure you’ve heard about humans making pacts with demons before, right? How much have you heard about it? What do you know about pacts and how they work?”

“Not a whole helluva lot. Mixed stuff I’ve heard from popular media and anime, it’s a trade of something the demon wants in exchange for some amount of help, safety from the demon, their power, or some mix of the above. Making a pact I’ve seen vary from intricate rituals involving blood, animal sacrifice, sex, and quirky accidents. So, in reality, you could probably tell me anything about pacts and I’d think it was legit. I’m trusting you not to dick me over if you’re about to explain any of it.”

“Ohhhh okay, so Pro Tip #1: What you said right there about trusting me? That’s top tier demon bait, any lesser demon would have immediately ditched their plans in favor of fucking with you, on principal. Don’t do that again. You’re lucky I’m the 4th most powerful demon in all of Devildom. I am the Grand Admiral of The Hell’s Navy. Literally even my next less powerful brother, Satan, would not have been able to resist that kind of temptation. Do. Not. Set yourself up that way again if you can help it. Capiche?”

“Yes, Sir.” My impulse to sit on his lap increased tenfold, but I feel like doing so right now would be poor thanks for a tip not to tempt demons when he has so generously resisted thus far. I do step closer and lean my hips against his desk to curb that itch however.

He raises an eyebrow in response, before valiantly choosing to ignore it and continue. “That said, it only really needs a verbal agreement. Were you trained in magic use, you could do more to gain greater power and control of the demon, but for our intents, that’s not necessary. I assume you just want to guarantee your own safety and agency, and the simple verbal agreement version of a pact does that. It gives you the ability to give direct commands to the demon in a pact with you, even if they don’t want to carry out the command. You could, for example, tell Mammon to stand between you and some hungry demon and protect you, or tell him to pay me back, and he’d just do it. Depending on how you phrase it, he might not even be able to complain about it as he does it.”

“Ahhhhhh, I see what you’re getting at. That would be a useful plan. What about how we get him to agree to the pact? I figure he won’t just go into a pact with me willingly without good cause.”

“You assume correctly! But recently, his most beloved possession was confiscated by Lucifer. If you can wheedle any info, SUBTLY, out of him about it, we can find it and use it as leverage to get Mammon into a pact with you. I will say it again though, be subtle, Lucifer can not know what you’re up to. Got it?”

“Can do.” I lean in towards him again, “Now,” I eye his lap visibly, before looking back up at his lips and finally his eyes. “You’ve got other important things to teach me, don’t you?”

He blushes, grumbles quietly, crossing his arms over his chest, and leans back into his chair, away from me. He sighs deeply before responding. “I do, you noob. Have you no sense of self preservation?” He sounds exasperated, but I feel like I can still swing this thing in my favor.

“I’ll have you know, I have an amazing sense of self-preservation. I can see when someone is good to cozy up to. You’re obviously a great tactician, and well trusted, respected, I’d have to be an idiot not to feel the power oozing off of you. I am only human, you know. A girl can’t help but flirt a little when on top of all of that, the guy in question is visually just her type.” I took my time to slowly enunciate each of my last three words, savoring them and emphasizing the way my plump lips move while saying it. I can’t help smirking a little while I do. He’s not looking cross with me yet, so I finally give in to the impulse I’ve been battling all through this conversation. I lean in, bracing my hands on either side of him on his chair’s armrests before swaying my hips over to slide onto his lap, turning my upper body as I do, letting go of the arms of the chair and draping my arms over his shoulders, as I am now draped sideways over his legs.

He grits his teeth and sighs again, before taking hold of my arms, and laying them in my own lap, reaching his arms around either side of me to get at his keyboard and mouse. “You’re just trying too hard now, I am saying no on principle alone at this point. And anyway, everyone knows that anything that looks like a good-end path this early in the game can only be a trap, it’s got bad-end written all over it.”

“I hate that I can’t argue with that even a little. If this were a game I was playing, I’d be screaming that she’s a yandere at the screen. Good call. I mean, I feel I should assure you that I’m definitely not yandere, just kinda slutty and vaguely traumatized.”

He takes the path of ignoring me and changing the subject entirely. It’s probably for the best.

“This is the icon for the school program, if your old schools used canvas, it's almost exactly the same thing. Upon signing in you get a screen with your available courses, and within each class is a syllabus with online and in-class content in their own sections. Pro-tip number two, look for dates on the online stuff. Some classes will actually dock you for doing the online stuff too soon. They kinda made that rule after I abused the online stuff, I’d rush through all the online shit so I could game and just drag myself into class for only the stuff I couldn’t do online. Any teachers I’ve had have changed how they do things to prevent me from being able to get away with that again. I’m not sorry.”

“Nor should you be, I’m salty on my own behalf that I didn’t get to abuse the old system that way as well, but I know I would’ve done the exact same so I don’t blame you a single bit.” I cross my arms over my chest and twist a little to lean back into his chest. “Not that I would’ve been able to get away with anything less than perfect attendance anyway, but this program just seems to supplement the in-class stuff and guarantee that whatever goes on in class doesn’t abandon you as soon as you walk out the door. Right?”

“Yep. Now fuck off, I’m expecting company and don’t want them thinking the wrong things if they get here before you leave.”

“Oh? A significant other?” I can’t help but ask as I scooch off of his lap. Of all the brothers to be dating someone, I was not betting on it being the otaku.

He snorts derisively at me. “No, the other human is also into TSL, so he’s coming over to talk about the series with me. Oh, watch the series if you want to get on my good side at all. Now, be gone, wench!”

“Ohmygod, fuck off you turbo nerd. I’ll watch it, then I’m coming back and smacking you for being a patriarchal jerk-ass. Be ready to fight.” If he tries to make it a video game fight, I will slug him. It’ll probably break my hand, given how firm his everything felt when I was sitting in his lap, but that’s a price I’m willing to pay to be able to say I decked him.

Walking back to my room I can hear a male voice talking through the door to Levi’s room. I see a white haired pretty-boy and figure that must be my human counterpart. If he’s got straight up white hair and looks all of maybe 21 max, I can file my nails to kitty claw points and call us even. I’m in hell, who’s going to be able to call me out as being a weirdo? Literally nobody will know enough to, and if they do know better, they can’t call me out on it because they’re probably equally weird just for knowing that.

I haven’t had a chance to engage in any legit self-care in probably a month now though, so I think a bath and filing my nails should about round out my day. I’m not even sure what time of day it is, but I don’t feel like my blood sugar is even risky feeling yet.

I crack upon getting into my room though and check my D.D.D. for the time. It’s almost half past three in the afternoon, so I’ve got plenty of time until dinner. 

I shed my outfit all over my bedroom floor on the way to my bathroom, and run the tub full with water just this side of too hot, with some lavender scented salts and a deep magenta bath bomb I feel like is scented with vanilla and rose? It’s not offensive at least, so I drop it in and give it time to fizzle out while I move the rug to where I will step out of the tub and pull the vanity stool over and stack some towels up on it. I find a music app on the phone and am delighted to find that Enya is playable. I just hit play for her whole discography on shuffle and step into the water. It’s still slightly too hot as I sink into it, but I’m willing to suffer for a few minutes to not have to try the bullshit of adding cold water or standing around naked and damp as the water cools down to a more reasonable level.

As I sit in the steaming hot bath, I am grateful that I forgot to close the door between my bedroom and the bathroom, even with that open it’s getting pretty stuffy in here. I scrub myself down and use some sugar scrub to exfoliate my legs and feet while keeping my hair up in its clip, so only the ends of my hair dip into the water at all. Which is fine. I swipe the fingertips of one hand across the top towel on the vanity stool just next to the tub and use my newly dry finger to tap on the phone screen and see that I’ve spent over an hour in here. I unplug the drain and let most of the water swirl away before standing up and shaking off a little before I proceed to pat myself dry. I now let my hair down and scrunch the damp ends in a towel to encourage my weak curl pattern to dry more wavy.

I dig around until I find an emery board and make my way in just a towel to my bedroom proper. As I walk I pick up my clothes and dunk them into my laundry basket before plonking myself onto my bed and starting to shape my nails to lovely curved points. They’re shaped and I’ve even had time to buff the edges so the only sharp part is the nice little tip at the very end of each nail. I normally can’t afford the maintenance of nail polish, but I feel like that might be an indulgence I can have here. As much as I loathe the idea of voluntarily giving Asmodeus attention, it might not be a bad idea to ask him where I can get a good mani/pedi done.

I whip my towel off of myself and use it to clean up all the nail dust, then wander over to my dresser to put something on for dinner. I’ve just slipped a pair of boyshorts on when my door opens without so much as a knock before-hand. A sing-song “Yoo-hoo!” and a quick knock are heard before I hear delighted cooing and the door shuts again. Think of the devil, and he shall appear.

I do not even turn my head, but continue to dig around for a bra and proceed to slip it on as I greet him. “How funny, I was just thinking that you’d probably be my best bet for finding out where to go for a mani/pedi day around here. You might cry if you had to know the state my cuticles are in right now.” As I have the bra in place and go to reach around my back to do up the closure, I can feel too-soft fingers take hold and do it for me. 

“Oh, my dear, you are entirely correct! I would likely be devastated on your behalf for bad cuticles, luckily, I do know of a great place that will be plenty safe to bring a human to. I actually took Solomon there quite recently. That Debbie Downer refused a manicure, but we did talk him into a pedicure at least. They do paraffin dips there too! Oh, you'll just adore it. We'll go on Saturday so we have the whole day to pamper ourselves properly."

With my bra properly fastened, he takes the initiative to adjust the straps for me, and honestly I'm a little grateful, even if he is handsy about it. I can never seem to adjust straps correctly myself. I feel a small pulse of envy and a smidge of hatred that I have to wear the stupid things daily, and he doesn't, but he knows exactly how to make it feel almost comfortable. It's rude is what it is.

"Hmm, can we do breakfast mimosas and chocolate covered strawberries if we do?" I'll need to drink and nosh on comfort foods to make this work, and they're all things that'll make me feel like hell for having eaten, but it'll feel good in the moment and it might just be enough to keep my social anxiety from ruining a perfectly good spa day.

"I like how you think! Of course we can, and we will!" He pauses here to snap my bra against my back lightly, probably playfully, but in that moment I could destroy him. I feel him step back away from me, and my violent impulse begins to fade. "Now, finish getting dressed for dinner so we can go down before Beel eats it all. Something with a low cut top."

I'm tempted to go for a turtle neck just to spite him, but my curiosity wins this round. "Why? It's just your brothers and I, right?"

"Because you've got a great rack, duh. And yes, tonight you're the only guest."

Half of me is being eaten alive by the urge to defy him for being such a blunt creep about it all, but the other half agrees and thinks he's onto something here. I do have a great rack, and I do enjoy being able to admire them and enjoy seeing others admire them. But I'll pick out bottoms first and see what will go with it to decide.

I find a disconcertingly soft pair of three-quarters sweats in a dark heathery gray, and I can't resist. Comfy fabrics will always win my heart. They cling to my curves, so something baggy on top will feel balanced. I find a black off-the-shoulder v-neck sweater made of the most stupidly soft yarn ever. The knit of it is loose enough that my bra will be vaguely visible, but honestly, among demons, added sex appeal can only work in my favor.

After pulling it all on, I spend a moment in front of the full length mirror my room came with, tugging and adjusting things into their proper place. I roll my eyes when Asmo gasps dramatically when I bend over to juggle my tits to sit in my bra properly before standing and letting everything settle before pulling my sweater around to re-drape properly over my curves. With that done, I grab a pair of the fluffiest socks in my drawer, except the socks aren’t in matched pairs so I have one neon pink one and one dark royal purple one. I will pair the socks later, but for now, I take a twisted joy in quickly smothering my feet in some lotion and slipping on my mismatched socks to round out my otherwise very cute outfit. I turn to the door to leave, grinning maliciously at Asmo, who looks offended at my feet. I don’t let him say a word before I wrench the door open and flounce out.

I don’t know where I’m going, but I am going. Asmo catches up, and I can physically feel him trying not to huff to himself in disgust. “Where are we going? I don’t know where to find the dining room yet. I’ve still not had the official tour of the place.”

He gives up and sighs loudly before answering. “You’re going the right way, just head down the stairs and I’ll show you the way from there. We’ll see about who gets to show you around after dinner.”

“Okie dokie.” I am fine with heavy silences. Let tonight set his expectations for what spending a whole spa day with me will be like. I don’t enjoy mindless chatter, so unless he wants to be an intelligent conversation partner, I am not afraid to make this awkward.

By the time we get to the dining room, the tablet is set, but only Beel is seated. Asmo waits for me to take a seat, then sits nearly at the opposite corner of the table from me and it takes everything I have not to cackle at him.

Weak willed men are my favorite to fuck with. He still looks distressed, and honestly, I am not even from this realm, there is infinite amounts of gossip or social rules he could be imparting to me, but he’s just so wrapped up in himself that he’s thrown himself into a tizzy. I hope when he gets on his phone that he’s asking a friend to come with us on Saturday. Hopefully that Solomon character. I’d love to interrogate another human whose spent more time here, or even just who knows more about all of this than I do.

One by one, the other brothers begin to file in and take places around the table. Meanwhile, without asking for help or anything, I just start filling up my plate with various things I recall being safe from my lessons with Lord Diavolo earlier today, and which seem least likely to haunt me tomorrow. As its not until I’ve sat here that I even remembered that because of this whole mess that I didn’t get to take my medication first thing this morning as I normally would have. Which, does not bode well, but may not be tragic. I haven’t had any majorly bad spells lately, and I’ve generally eaten pretty safe foods today. I think. I, of course, am assuming when it comes to the demonic food, as it will obviously have differing properties to the closest human foods that can compare to each.

I am either super screwed or, it being magic, may help. Or honestly I’m just trying to predict in something where I have no idea what to base my judgments off of. I take a few bites before the anxiety eats me up. I don’t feel any burning or anything that hints that this will become painful soon, but it sneaks up on me in my sleep sometimes. I figure I’ll text Diavolo just in case, I figure if the head honcho has warning that I may be out of commission tomorrow, my life will be easier if I do indeed need to stay in bed all day.

He responds almost immediately by assuring me its alright either way, and that I will be taken care of no matter what happens. He also reassures me that Barbatos has my medications in hand and is in transit to get them to me, so I can expect his arrival soon. 

I tuck my D.D.D. away in my sweater pocket and call out Lucifer’s name. Instead of getting just his attention however, these brothers are horribly embarrassing and all go silent and turn to look at me.

Lucifer himself nods for me to continue, so I let him know Barbatos will be here soon with my medications, and I advise him that if he has not spoken to Lord Diavolo about me yet, that it may be prudent to do so after dinner.

When he asks why, I don’t feel like explaining how broken and dysfunctional my body is in front of everyone, so, with ruddy cheeks I blurt out, “Just, there’s probably some care instructions he may have based on the incident this morning at his castle. He can explain better than I can.” I then proceed to shove a spoonful of what looks like mashed potatoes but does not taste like them into my mouth. I can see a few raised eyebrows around the table, but it seems clear to everyone that I will not be more forthcoming.

Luckily for me, once I finish with my bite, but before anyone can ask anything else of me, we can all hear knocking echo from the door in the main entryway. I offer that it must be Barbatos, and jump up, quickly saying that I’ll just go get it since it’s for me anyway, and nearly run off.

I do happen to remember the way to the entrance and make it there without getting lost. I fling open the door and Barbatos is there with a medium-sized covered basket, and a smile. He seems to know that I just got out of an embarrassing situation, and is only snickering at me a little. He informs me that he grabbed a few extra things from my apartment which should add to my comfort while I’m here, and has tucked it all neatly into the basket for me.

He makes me promise to let him know if he’s forgotten anything, so I have to look through it all here at the door. I offer to have him come in, but he assures me its not that much. I move the cloth from atop the basket and can see all the bottles I would have expected, as well as a few I figured might get left behind, and even my little portable pill container! I love my pill case! I don’t have to live without it! Ugh, I am so overwrought with relief for just the tiniest moment before I also spot my bottles of clear and white cum-lube for my bad dragon toys, as well as 2 of my other favorite dildos.

I have no idea how he knew they were my favorites, but I could just dissolve into a puddle of horror right here on the spot. I move them and see that he’s also included my favorite knit throw blanket and used it to line the bottom of the basket, as well as my aromatherapy bead stuffed leopard, as well as the tincture bottles of the essential oils I use to scent the beads the leopard is filled with. It looks like he’s even brought my gummy melatonin and gummy vitamins, as well as the iron and B12 supplements I had been hoping he’d forget.

“It appears you have been most thorough, I have no complaints. Thank you so much.” I re-cover the basket and look back up to ask for a hug. He doesn’t look like he does this often, but he does open his arms up for a hug. I set the basket down and reach my arms around his shoulders for as big of a hug as I can. He wraps his arms around my waist and hugs back for just a moment. When I pull away and grab for my basket again, he says “It has been a pleasure, have a good evening. Please don’t hesitate to call upon me again, my dear.” and vanishes into the night.

I think about just running up to my room without telling anyone but I am still hungry, so I figure I’ll pop my head in for a second and let them know to leave my plate there for me to come back to.

Only, when I do pop my head in, Beel has gotten to my plate, and Lucifer clearly expects answers. I am not about to show him the actual basket, so I walk in and over near him. “Barbatos has brought essential medications for me that I cannot do without, as well as a few other things which should make my stay here more comfortable. If you want more information about the medications or why he went on this errand for me, this is why I had recommended that you speak to Lord Diavolo. He had a medical professional see me this morning, but really, he can give you full context that would be better coming from him.” He doesn’t look convinced, but he also appears to recognize this is all he’s going to get out of me right now. “May I be dismissed to put this in my room before coming back to finish my dinner?”

He seems to think on it for a moment, “Beel, make sure to leave a portion for Cherie. She will be right back and hasn’t had a sufficient meal yet.” Beel pouts, but nods in affirmation and seems to slow his roll just a bit. I utter a quick, quiet thanks and speed walk out of the room, back up to my quarters. I drop it on my bed, before jogging back down to the dining room, real fear of not getting to finish eating making me go faster than I perhaps should.

I do manage to slow to a proper walking speed at the door to the dining room, let myself in, and seat myself neatly again. Luckily there are still a few dishes with food to serve myself from, so I take bits of things I think I can recall are safe. Satan does stop me from reaching for one particular plate, informing me it’s toxic to humans, but other than that slip up, I appear to make good choices with the rest. Flavors seem to trend towards more bitter and savory notes, but there are a few sweet and spicy sauces to be found.

As much as I enjoy spicy flavors, until I know how I react to Devildom fare I figure I’ll stay away from it as much as I can. My heart pangs at the tragedy of having to forego the hotter dishes, but I lie and promise myself I’ll have more chances to enjoy it later, despite knowing that there’s every reason to believe this might be a constant thing unless that cure thing ends up being reasonable.

Upon cleaning my plate, I find that I am just perfectly full, no feeling of having overeaten and no desire for more. That perfect balance that seems always out of reach at home. Maybe it’s the magic in the food.

Regardless, I push my seat back and go to excuse myself back to my room. When I ask if I may be excused Lucifer stops me, once again.

“Lord Diavolo has actually sent me a message, requesting we have a conversation after this, but I resent going into this with no warning of what kind of conversation I’m walking into. Speak.”

He resents? No, I fucking resent this. “Listen buddy, did you get a load of the size of that basket?”

He is starting to look angry, but he nods his assent, so I continue. “While there were other things in the basket, like a blanket, at least half of it was filled up with medications, many of which I need to take daily. Draw your own conclusions about what necessitates a human to need that much medication. That’s what the conversation is about. I come with care instructions, I unfortunately cannot simply be left to survive on my own without assistance and without certain needs being met. My health is a very private matter, and I fucking resent having to talk about it with this big of an audience. Is that warning enough of what you’re walking into?”

He looks ready to throttle me, but I can tell he is now wondering how much of a breeze would knock me over. I do bruise when flicked lately, so I won’t discourage his caution. Actually, it might do him some good to hear that. “I have a bruise right now on my shoulder from being flicked. I’ve had that bruise for like 4 days now. I’m a fragile flower. You’ve been warned.”

Mammon pipes up behind me “Nuh uh, no fucking way! I know humans are weak, but there’s no way you got flicked, by another human, and it bruised you, and that many days later you still have the bruise. I don’t believe it.”

I pull down that shoulder of my sweater, and by chance, this one happened to bruise in the exact shape of the person’s finger from the last knuckle to the tip of the finger, even green and partially faded, it’s clear that I am not exaggerating.”

“Holy shit. Uh, Lu-”

Mammon is cut off mid-syllable by his older brother. “Enough! Alright, I can see that this does indeed need a whole conversation with Lord Diavolo to sort out. You should go back to your room and get ready for bed. Mammon, make sure she gets there’s safely.”

Fuck me running. I’m going to have a bodyguard at all times, I can see it now. I just royally fucked myself over haven’t I? Goodbye privacy and personal space, I hardly knew ye.

Mammon must be too confused or too scared of hurting me to argue, because he’s already next to me, holding his arm out for me to take hold of. I nod and murmur my thanks to Lucifer as I take hold of Mammon’s arm, and tuck myself into his side as he walks me back to my room. Luckily the trip goes quickly and we’re standing in front of my door before I know it. I unwind my arms from his and begin to pull away before I give Mammon a pat to his elbow, bid him a good night, and shut myself into my room.

I pull the cloth off of the basket and shake it out, the first time I totally missed that it’s one of my linen scarves, folded up into a big square. Another comfort item, that Barbatos really is good. I set it aside on the bedspread and pick up the basket to tote along to the bathroom to put things away and organize.

Since leaving it earlier, I realize there’s another cabinet here that I didn’t open before, this one appears to have been left empty for me, so I move the first dildo from the other cabinet to this one, and stand it up on the bottom shelf where I will move its brothers to accompany it, along with the bottles of lube. I missed it at the door, but he also tucked in the bottle of toy cleaner. Thank fuck. Once those are arranged neatly, I begin to organize my medication boxes and bottles along the middle and top shelves. I figure I’ll use the top shelf for dailies and the most commonly used, and the middle shelf for things I only need conditionally or occasionally.

Once they’re organized by shelf, I then shuffle things around a bit until it resembles the sorting I had going on at home, but improved to suit the new space. I end up arranging my essential oil bottles onto a little mirrored tray on top of the cabinet, despite not using them a lot, they are nice to be able to just open and sniff at whenever I need to self soothe.

With this little cabinet of things uniquely mine, and neatly arranged at that, I feel all sorts of tension I didn’t realize I was holding fall away from my shoulders and my neck even cracks a bit. I take a precautionary 4 tums and guzzle as much water as I can stomach, then tote the significantly lighter basket back out to my room proper.

I remove the throw from the basket and shake it out before tossing it at my pillows, and I settle my leopard onto my desk, ready to grab to take with me if I need him. Fuck, I didn’t think about that part. Humans don’t think twice about seeing a grown-ass woman walk around hugging a stuffed toy, surprisingly enough, but I just cannot imagine demons not taking the mickey out of me for it. Maybe. I thought the same about humans before trying it, so who knows. I’ll have to figure that out later. I haven’t been anxious enough to need it in public lately anyway, so I’ve got time enough not to have to worry about that yet. Whatever.

This has been a long-ass day, and I am ready to end it. I strip and throw everything into the laundry basket, then stalk back off to the bathroom to shower. I’ve just pulled the curtain back when I hear a knock at the door. Fuck. I wrap a towel around myself and go to answer, its probably Lucifer ready to throw me back at the human world. As if Diavolo doesn’t have his heart set on me already for whatever reason.

Surprise surprise, and it’s Lucifer. He doesn’t seem to mind that I’m in a towel, he doesn’t appear to notice actually, so Imma act like this is normal and acceptable too. Until he wants to be let in. Fucking, “Fine, sure, come in.” I step back from the door to let him in, and he stalks over to sit at the chair for my desk, turning it to face me. I decide to greet him before he can lay into me for whatever. “So, what’s up, buttercup?”

He looks constipated, but swallows it and goes on to speak. “Lord Diavolo explained everything, about the accident with your breakfast, and your sensitivity, to your pre-existing medical conditions, and even the deal he offered you. I’m not sure why he’s willing to go this far for some random human, especially one that requires as much effort as you appear to, but I will not disappoint him. I take it Barbatos has provided all medications you will need until a more permanent solution can be found and decided upon, yes?”

“He has, and then some. He brought about my whole medicine cabinet. I’m very set for about a month, give or take depending on how my body handles Devildom food long term. If the food here suits me, even without medication I may be able to manage a bit longer than that by just being careful and using the other meds I have as needed. We still have to hear back from the medical professional who took scans and samples from me today too. Diavolo said that what he comes back with may include some ways to improve on my current prescriptions, so it’s a bit wait and see right now.”

“Yes, about that. He did hear back about some of the scans already, actually, and he’s convinced that you’re not entirely human and that a lack of exposure to magic is at least partially responsible for the deterioration of your health. He has to finish the rest of the tests to make positive on his diagnosis, but for now wants us to teach you about use of magical basics and work with you with magic and see how you react to it.”

“Oh.” Well then. That’s certainly not anything I expected to hear. If that is right, its no wonder none of my doctors could make heads or tails of it. It also makes sense of why it all got worse once I moved out, mom practiced her own magic around the house regularly, and I just never had the time to do anything but get by. “Um, okay. Yeah. I’ll learn whatever you have to teach me, or whoever will be in charge of that will teach me.” Which reminds me, “Lord Diavolo in that first meeting in the student council room did mention that I might have some subtle or intuitive healing magic, if that is true I would love to harness and learn about how to consciously use that, even if for whatever reason my own magic may not work on me.”

He’s looking at me like I’ve grown another head, but I don’t think I said anything weird. I assume magic can’t be used on oneself, my attempts to pray for myself never worked anyway, and when I was taught about fortune telling, I was always told to avoid trying to do readings for myself as much as possible as things get foggier they closer to us they are. Maybe human taught rules of magic are bullshit? Who knows! Certainly not I.

“Yes, well, he suggested having Solomon go over the basics with you as he’s also human, but I don’t trust him so we will be having a discussion tomorrow about who shall have the pleasure of being your magic tutor. I think Satan may be well suited for it. In either case, you should pack your pill case such that you can be at school a few extra hours without issue. For now, expect to meet in the student council room after classes for your magical tutoring.”

“Yes, Sir. Is that all for this evening then?”

“Yes, it is. Why, are you so anxious to get rid of me already?”

“Absolutely, I’m nude under this towel if you've forgotten somehow. I was about to get into the shower and then go to bed before you showed up. I don’t make a practice of being nude around people I’ve got no plans to fuck, so uh, yeah. Shits weird, yo.”

“That’s a shame. Regardless, I shall leave you to your ablutions.” He then stands and lets himself out.

Fucker. I don’t know why it irks me to have a demon hit on me after spending time alone in my room with me naked but for a towel, but I could scratch his eyes out right now. Handsome, stupid, fucking rude ass demon. I stand in a huff and stomp off to lock the door to my room as I let out an upset little scream of frustration. I then proceed to continue stomping off to the bathroom. I unwind the towel from my person and hang it on the hook just outside of the shower curtain.

I am so wound up and mad, I know I can’t just shower and call it good, I’ll lay in bed fuming still at this rate.

Ugh. I never did get to masturbate the other day either. I may as well, now that I have all suitable supplies.

I figure I’ll go for a shorter fatter model, and slick it up with a clear lube, smack it onto one of the tiled walls with the suction cup end of it, and bend over, before sliding it roughly into my pussy. Despite not warming myself up, being mad at that jerk must have worked me up, I’m panting and can feel heat begin to coil in my abdomen already. I brace my arms on the counter opposite me, and quickly piston my hips back onto my toy until I climax around it, shuddering, and involuntarily crying a little.

As I come down, I am so glad I did this before showering, I am a sweaty, lube scented mess now. I reach behind myself and unstick the dildo before slowly moving over to the sink, where I’ve sat the cleaner, lid off, out, and proceed to clean it off. After tucking it back into my cabinet with all supplies cleaned up and set aside it, I close the cabinet up and can feel the heavy weight of my tiredness and the whole day like lead, like molasses has replaced all of my blood.

I brush my hair out while it’s still dry, then take a wide-toothed pick-comb with me into the shower which is now running with nice hot water. I lather the shampoo over my scalp, rinse, comb conditioner through the ends of my very long hair, and twist it up on top of my head, shoving the comb in to keep it in place. 

I then take a loofah and run the bar of soap over it creating a rich lather, which I then use to scrub the day off of myself with. I have to repeat the lather to the loofah puff twice to get all of myself, but I already feel so much better. I could drop off here and now in this nice steam, porcelain and all, but I still take the time to it on the edge of the tub and work the sugar scrub into my hips, legs, and really work it into my feet. 

They’re getting cracked again, and I might not be diabetic yet, but I get the diabetic feet and have for long enough to know not to give them even the slightest edge to get away from me. Exfoliate, and then slather in uncomfortable amounts of lotion or cocoa butter, and as much as I hate wearing socks to bed, freshly moisturized feet get socked and will remain socked until I get up to get ready for the day, when they will be re-moisturized and re-socked for shoes.

By the time I am dried off, my feet are drowning in lotion, and shoved into fluffy socks, I figure I’ll put panties on under my sleep shirt, I unlock the door again, and flop into my bed. I wiggle into the middle of the bed before pulling the knit throw over my shoulders and face, and feeling a lot more at home, I find sleep immediately.


	3. Earrings and Attics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belphie is, in a manner, introduced. Rando demons are threatened and dealt with, and Cherie gets herself in over her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay! I actually wrote 2 whole versions of what happens after chapter 2 that had to be thrown out before landing on this one, which finally feels right. I had some conflicting muses, but that is resolved and I actually have a few chapters written and mostly edited ready to post here soon. I hope you enjoy! The story veers wildly from canon here, but don't worry! I am not in fact, writing myself into a corner, all shall be resolved.

I might have fallen asleep easily, but I tossed and turned all night, hearing cries for help, and wrestling with a restlessness that begged me to get up and leave my room to wander the house to the highest heights it has to offer. My mama didn’t raise a fool though, and haunted ass house calling for help and inspiring urges to wander in the dark are the hallmarks of a dumbass girl in a horror movie about to amble off to her death. I’m not that character, I am gonna sleep shitty and bitch to the person in charge of the house instead. Let some horrifying demon deal with whatever curse or ghost wants my blood. I like my blood exactly where its at, inside me. I don’t heal fast enough to deal with losing any of it if I can help it.

I manage to wake up before anyone can do it for me, and surprise of surprises, I feel pretty decent, if a little drowsy. I head straight to the bathroom to tie up my hair, take my dailies, brush my teeth, and wash my face. I leave my hair in a messy bun while I head back to my dresser to strip of my pajamas and change into a clean pair of panties, a wireless bra, and start to pull on some leggings to wear underneath my uniform skirt.

I’ve apparently only just beaten whichever brother this is by seconds to cover up. I call out “Come in! But shut the door quickly.” And proceed to pull on my button up shirt and begin to do up the buttons on it as I turn around. Mammon is there, looking frustrated already somehow. I don’t know what his damage is, but I’m sure I’ll find out soon enough if it’s important. “Almost done, once I have the uniform all put on I am just gonna clip my hair up, grab my bag and supplies, and we can be off for breakfast. Though, I do know the way now if you wanna head there and I’ll catch up in a sec.” He’s still glaring at me, and I’m tugging on the sleeves of the jacket, pulling it into place. “I can’t read minds, it’s not a natural human talent. Unless your intent is really just to stand there and stare until I’m ready, this won’t be a productive conversation.”

“Just fuckin hurry up, I can’t believe the Great Mammon is stuck on babysitting duty for some pathetic human of all things. A human is supposed to be a delicious treat, but here I am, stuck at the whims of a snack.”

“Excuse you, I’m no snack, I am a whole goddamn meal. If you’re nice, I might let you eat me out later. For now, shut the hell up and either help me wrestle myself into this stupid fucking uniform or keep yer gob shut and quit distracting me so I can do this faster.”

He marches over and smacks my hands away from my clothes. “You are a fucking mess and a disaster of a human.” He then shakes out the jacket, straightening out the wrinkle that was caught on itself and keeping it from pulling on before. “You can not just say shit like that to a demon talking about consuming your fuckin soul and flesh as an actual meal. Holy Shit! I’m not sure what I did for Lucifer to decide I deserve this, but I hope I made bank on that shit.”

“Okay, I assume that falls under Levi’s pro tip #1 of not tempting demons?” 

“Fucking, if he already gave you that talk, why? Nevermind, you’re good, put your hair up and let’s go.”

I’m usually not so bad at putting on clothes, but I guess I didn’t orient that beast of a jacket right, too many folds and flaps of fabric and belts and an actual goddamn half capelet. Ridiculous archaic nonsense. I do clip up my hair nicely and sweep my bangs to the side before bouncing back out to the room and my desk only to find that Mammon has packed my bag for me already and has it held out for me to grab.

While we eat a quick breakfast by ourselves and then subsequently run off to the school, I decide to see if I can pry any information out of him. “So, if I’m hearing calls for help in the dead of night and feeling weird urges to wander into places that I probably don’t belong, is that just a side effect of being a human in a likely haunted ass house, or what? And what can I do to get a better night of sleep tonight?”

“I’ve never heard anything weird, and my brothers haven’t mentioned it either, so it’s probably something about being human. You’ll probably wanna ask Lucifer about it later. Be careful when talking about the urges to go places you don’t belong. Was it an urge to go somewhere specific in the house, or just to wander and you assume you’ll land somewhere you’re not allowed? He gets pissy really easy, and I don’t wanna have to try and save your dumb ass from him.”

“Ugh, I mean I haven’t even gotten a tour of the house yet, thanks for that by the way, so I have no idea where it would take me, but the urge was to climb as high as I could in the house. I assume there’s higher floors or attics or some shit, but that sounds like it’s got ‘Poor Life Choice’ smeared all over it, in blood. Probably my blood. I hate going in attics and basements in plain old definitely-not-haunted-houses. I could not be paid to willingly walk into one in a house inhabited by actual demons. I’d have to be dragged there, kicking and screaming, fully against my will.”

“By the fires, what the fuck am I going to do with you? Fuck, well, I suppose that’s as good an explanation as any that would keep ol’ Luci from biting your head off about it. If you’re not trying to poke your nose into places it doesn’t belong, and you’re just trying to keep from being dragged into shit you don’t belong in, then he’ll probably bend over backwards to keep you out of the shit you need to be kept out of. Don’t ask what would be calling to you from the attic, don’t ask anything about it, except how to keep away from it. Come to think of it, this is a good segue into another of those Pro Tips Levi was telling you about. If you see a demon that looks like it wants to go after ya, run. Don’t even think about trying to stay or fight, you’ll die. Run and you might still die, but at least you’ll stand a better chance that way. Now, your first class is up those stairs and down that first hall, but I don’t got time to walk ya there and still get to mine on time, so run, and good luck!”

I sigh, and start to make my way up the stairs. On my way up, I can hear some bad stage whispered gossip about eating me while Mammon isn’t paying attention. Too bad I’m a loud ass bitch though. I act like I’m just thinking out loud to myself and nearly shout “Man, I bet there’s all kinds of bullshit tracking who touches me or who I interact with. If someone was to do something as stupid as try to harm one of the guests of the future King I can’t imagine they’d survive the consequences. It’d be nice to know for sure what that whole deal is though.” I am like, one unexpected touch away from screaming like a little girl and I don’t wanna kiss my dignity goodbye again quite so soon.

Meanwhile, I have started a group chat on my D.D.D. with Lucifer and Lord Diavolo, asking “If I get eaten by a rando ass couple of demons, are there any trackers of any kind on me that’ll tell you who it is so I will at least be avenged?”

Some chuckling jerk comes up behind me before patting my shoulder and Solomon comes into view. I only half-remember meeting this shady fuck before meeting Simeon and Luke, those adorable sweethearts. “Nice job drawing all eyes to you, they’re less likely to think they can get away with anything if there’s too many witnesses.” My heart is still beating outside of my chest, but it’s starting to calm down as I realize that about every other Joe Schmoe demon that had been lingering has vanished. Thank fuck.

“Yeah, well, Mammon said he didn’t have time to take me all the way to class, so it seemed like a better bet than running off looking scared. I imagine that’d only make me seem like a tastier morsel for them to fantasize about eating whole, and program aside, the eating I’d be into I think is not what all these demons have on the menu.”

“No, I imagine not. It’s been lovely to meet you again. Have fun!” and by the time I have a second to take stock of my surroundings I’m halfway down the hall Mammon told me about and completely alone.

Until I turn around directly into the chest of Lucifer himself. I could just shit myself right now, I am so jumpy and ready to fucking deck a dude to make it all slow down or stop.

“Was that Solomon I saw you with just now?”

“It was indeed. I’m not sure I totally believe that he’s legit human, no matter what you guys say about it. He’s got almost as much creep factor as you do, and sorry, but, before I realized it was you, I was scared enough that I about peed my frickin pants. Please can we not sneak up on the fragile human? My poor heart can only handle so much of this bullshit before it just up and gives out on me. I’d like to put a bell or some shit on you, so I can at least hear you coming.” Goddamn every being in this realm for being so horrifying and so much more powerful than myself. Maybe I am not doing so hot after that shitty sleep after all.

He gives a short bark of a dark little laugh before replying, “Well, I’m actually unsure what all Lord Diavolo set up in terms of any tracking on you, but I will see if I can find out. If there isn’t anything, would you like us to put something in place?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely. Please do. Upon realizing where I was I kinda kissed the idea of the sanctity of privacy goodbye anyway, and it’d go a long way to easing some of my major anxieties about random attacks. I don’t care how much information y’all have on me, just keep me safe.”

“You may grow to regret that, but I will see what we can do.”

“If I live to regret it, I have at least lived that long, and I can deal with regret. If I don’t have those measures in place and die because of it, that’s it. Being dead means the end of everything, no more regret, but no more learning and growing and seeing my little brother and niece and nephews again. I’ve got people to live for. Whatever invasions of privacy you have in store are nothing next to that. I’d do anything to prevent them from having to know the pain of my early demise. I have a promise to keep.”

He’s got a considering look on his face, before he says “The bell is likely about to ring,” and reaches out to turn me towards a particular door, and pushes from the small of my back a bit. “That’s your room, we’ll talk more after classes. Keep an eye on your D.D.D. for more information on when and where that conversation will be.” Then his hand, and seemingly the rest of him are just gone. I refuse to get used to this whole vanishing shit. It’s dumb, and meant purely to spook the dumb human, and I am not about it. I’ve never been one for theatrics for the sake of theatrics. Unless it’s me making a dramatic exit from a room, then I’m the most theatrical bitch alive.

I am in class, taking notes on class expectations when I realize I forgot to ask about the voices and urges to wander. Oh well, we do have to talk more anyway. I’ll just make a note of it on my hand. I decide that I’ll write it on the back of my right hand so it’s harder to miss. I just inscribe “voices” in ink pen, but it’ll do the trick.

By the time classes are up, I have received a text from Lucifer telling me to go directly to the student council room after class. Despite the urge I have to disobey on principle, I do go right there with no detours. I’d shoved an tupperware type container full of something like granola and nuts into my bag on the way to school, and it’s lasted me all day as a snack, but I hope this meeting won’t be long. I need something like fruit soon or I’m gonna cry. I’m not achy and my blood sugar is fine, but it’s one of those urges I’ve always figured means I need vitamins or some thing that fruit usually has in it. I just always get a little cranky when I don’t get fruit when I crave it.

Upon entering the courtroom-like space, I can see that Lord Diavolo and Lucifer are already here, as is Barbatos. No brothers, just us. This doesn’t seem like I could be trapped into anything at all. Nope. Regardless, I march onward, and take a seat near them, and wait to be addressed. Listening intently to whatever they will speak of in front of me.

Unfortunately, right now, it appears to be about a spirit week poll. A spirit week? Is this fuckin high school? And so early in the year? Wait, are there even any rival schools to get hype about beating for a spirit week to be worth having, or is it just like, a themed thing they do? Oh, it might also be that thing where they don’t have context behind why a spirit week is done, and just do it, like my old workplace did. They just plucked it from its origins and used it as an excuse to make us do dumb shit in the name of ‘fun.’ Oh god, if they do spirit week, is there a homecoming game for a sport of some kind, and does that mean they’ll have a homecoming dance and a prom? I fucking hope not.

I am spiralling when someone taps me on the shoulder. I react with a high-pitched screech and a full-body flinch, followed immediately by an apology and I turn to find that it had been poor Barbatos who had tried to get my attention. Attention fully on him, he asks simply whether there are any refreshments he can get for me. 

“If there’s any fruit or fruit dishes you could easily get me, that’d be amazing. Even juice might just hit the spot. Otherwise, some water would be equally welcome. Thank you.”

When I pick my head up to observe my surroundings, its just Luci, Big D, and me, and they appear to both have their attention turned to me in full. Fuck. I missed something when I was spiralling. I’ll wait, I’m sure one of them will get sick of my shit and repeat their question.

I was right, Lucifer got sick of my shit first, as I thought he might. “You looked rather pre-occupied, what was so concerning? You looked really rather distressed, if I do say so.” Ohmygod, do I tell them what I was actually thinking about, or do I make something up that isn’t embarrassing as all get out? Diavolo will probably call me out if I lie, he has this look on his face daring me to lie. I know better. Fuck.

“I uh, I heard you both talking about spirit week themes, and wondered if you guys just do it as a fun themed dress up days kind of thing, or if it’ll lead up to a homecoming game, which led me to wonder if you do homecoming and prom dances, and I started to panic about the idea of being in high school again. Fuck high school, man.”

Diavolo gives a deep hearty laugh for a moment before even trying to respond. “No homecoming game, we do not have a rival school to compete against in such a contest. I have considered holding the dances you mention though. If you don’t mind, could you tell me what you can about how those dances are administered? My prior sources have been a bit unclear.”

I sigh from the deepest recesses of my dusty fucking soul, when, angel that he should be, Barbatos sets chocolate covered chunks of red fruit flesh in front of me. It might not actually be strawberries, but its close enough that I don’t care. I take the tiny dessert fork I have been provided and spear a piece, before drawing it into my mouth, taking my time to pull the fork back out, sucking all the melty traces of chocolate off as I do, so that I don’t have to lick my cutlery while demons watch.

I apparently had closed my eyes, as when I open them, I can see that my attempt at modesty has failed, and I am fucking up pro tip number one, yet again. Don’t tempt the demons, Cherie. Do not. Wobby voiced, I declare, “This is absolutely delicious and exactly what I needed. You’re too good, Barbatos. Thank you!” This did not in fact lighten things up, if anything, both Diavolo and Lucifer look even more entertained and if their eyes could interact physically, I feel like they’d have me feeling pretty fucking violated. I remain untouched for now, but I wonder how long that can last at the rate I’m currently going. I am trying to follow the rule now though, actively trying!

“Don’t pout, Dearest. It makes you even more tempting. Now, please continue to enlighten us about these dances.” Lucifer enjoys making nicknames of my name, I think. Dad joke making motherfucker. Whatever.

“The homecoming dance is held early in the year, to welcome the student body back, and its usually held in conjunction with a football game declared to be the homecoming game. At my school, it was the game we played against the second oldest highschool in town, as my school was the oldest in town. Our two schools were rivals, despite there being a whole third school that had been founded, we all kinda ignored it when it came to sports rivalries. Anyway, The dance itself is pretty basic, but just extra enough to make teenagers lose their minds over trying to make the whole experience live up to the expectations movies created for them about it. Music, either live or from a DJ is there, different schools vary on refreshments. Anything from just water or punch may be provided, food is not usual to be there. It’s expected that the students will have big dinners with each other and their dates before the dance, as part of the experience. Some photo-op is expected, either a booth, or an actual photographer with props they can stand in front of. The props or booth will be matched to the decorative theme of the dance, which may or may not influence how the attendees choose to dress. Prom is pretty much the same way, but later in the school year, and tends to be limited just to upperclassmen. Juniors and Seniors only, unless an upperclassmen has invited a freshman or sophomore as their date. Homecoming is usually open to all students, but is sometimes limited to sophomores and higher as they’re the only ones actually coming home, so to speak. I hope that clarifies things some.”

I cut myself off before going off on even more minute details of thematic differences and how traditions vary from region to region, and about my own experiences in chaperoning and about social expectations kids have about the dances and all that garbage. I’m instead shoving more sweet, tart, chocolatey fruit into my face and trying not to moan. It’s this unreal balance of juicy and its dark chocolate and its sweet and a little bitter but its obviously quality dark chocolate as the chocolate itself has this fruity quality to it, and God. I could eat this forever. I’ve stopped paying attention to the demons I’m here to meet with and I’m cleaning my plate. Licking my fork, sucking on fingers that accidentally get food on them. I haven’t descended to actually licking the plate, but there is still food on it, so its not like I’ve employed any real restraint yet.

Diavolo clears his throat, then in a tight sounding voice replies. “It has been most illuminating. I may pick your brain for more details later, you obviously have more knowledge on the matter.” He stops and clears his throat again. “You really enjoy those, don’t you?”

Fuck. Sheepishly, my faint voice echoes a response between giggles. “Heh, yeah, sorry. I’m a sucker for tart fruit and chocolate, and dark chocolate like this is my actual favorite. If it wouldn’t destroy my blood sugar levels, I’d never eat anything else ever again.” I lost track of myself, and the last half of that last sentence of my reply was in this light, dreamy tone. I shove another piece into my mouth and suck on the fork as I pull it from between my lips, and lick my lips of the chocolate again after. I’m doing it again, I’m sure. I don’t know how else to eat this shit without making it look tempting. It’s not my fault! I look pleadingly around, and Lucifer at least looks done with my shit, while Barbatos looks like he’s been laughing silently since leaving the plate with me. He probably has. Poor Diavolo looks ready to eat me whole, but he’s distressed by the feeling. I can’t help thinking, ‘that makes two of us, bub.’

I don’t know if he can sense my thoughts, but he quirks a wry grin at me, just the corner of his mouth upturned on one side. “To stray from the topic at hand a bit, and return to the original cause for this meeting. Your text earlier mentioned a desire to check about tracking or the like as a means of protection for you. Can you tell me more about your thoughts on this?”

“Oh, yes. There were two random demons discussing wanting to eat me while Mammon wasn’t watching and I thought it prudent to warn them that I’m a high profile target and thought that it wasn’t unreasonable to believe, and let them believe, that there is no sneaking harm to me, that one would always be able to tell who harmed me. I hoped that others might overhear my loudmouth self warning them and spread rumors that I can’t be touched without consequence. Whether it’s true or not was immaterial at the moment, but a very real threat made me feel like it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to have be true. I don’t care about my privacy, I haven’t expected any upon being kidnapped in the first place, so I don’t lose out on anything here. I only gain the peace of mind of knowing that I am untouchable by those that would see me come to harm.” They both winced at my mention of being kidnapped. I hope they feel legitimate guilt about that. I’m still salty about my entrance to this realm, I may always carry salt about that. I am so very good at holding grudges.

Lord Diavolo clears his throat, I get the impression he’s a little lost for words just this second. He appears to visibly brace himself before actually speaking. “To answer the question you texted earlier, I actually hadn’t added any trackers to you yet. Are you positive you’d like me to have such things set up for you?”

I don’t even have to consider. The only shit I need to keep private is stuck inside of my own head anyway. “I’m positive. If you’re going to make yourselves responsible for my safety, I want accountability. If I’m attacked, I likely won’t be able to identify my attacker myself, so having some means of tracking who harms me appears necessary.”

He turns to nod at Barbatos, who then quickly makes his exit, presumably to get something. “Luckily for us both, I have a set of earrings you can wear, they’re even just simple studs, that I can use to find the magical signature of anyone who brings you to harm. It doesn’t filter anyone out, so it will still say if one of the student council members hurts you, but it can tell between harmless and harmful touches, even with you being human and having an obviously much lower tolerance for harm. The earrings will serve to provide you emergency shielding if something does seek to harm you, and I will receive a signal if such a thing were to happen as well. I know it might be more useful for someone like Lucifer to get the signal, but it is magically tuned to my person, and this cannot be altered. Would you consent to wear them?”

“Certainly! That sounds more than fine to me. Thank you, my Lord. I appreciate this more than I can say.” I hope they’re cute, or at least subtle. I’ve never been one for jewelry to begin with, and never big or gaudy pieces. Small, subtle touches are key. I can speak from experience that I can be dripping in gold and it’ll look good, but not extraordinary. Well, specifically gold might because its a good color on my skin tone, but that’s not the point. One of my cousin’s weddings landed me in an entirely gold outfit with all gold jewelry and accessories and even gold make up, the whole thing was a trip. And it reinforced how much of a pain in the ass all that nonsense is.

Barbatos comes back, with a small jewelery box in hand, which he presents to Lord Diavolo. He pops open the box to examine them first, seeming to find them satisfactory, he snaps it shut and passes me the little black velvet box. I open the box to find two rather small studs, little black opaque crystals. I am in love with them! They’re so cute, I immediately pick one up and proceed to put it into the hole in one of my ears. I haven’t worn earrings for ages though, so I hope the backs haven’t closed up again. “Fuck. I think the hole closed up again. I’ll have to re-pierce it.” I pause here and pull it from my ear, I usually have my brother do this for me so I don’t accidentally make a second hole in the back. I’ve done that once before in my right ear, I don’t want to repeat the mistake. With the earring set down, I reach up to feel around my earlobe to see if I can feel where the hole should be.

“Come here, I can help you put them in.” Lord Diavolo’s voice is pure velvet, and before I can even consider the levels of trust I usually require before letting anyone touch me anywhere near my head or neck, I have the earrings in hand and I am halfway across the space between us. It stops me mid-step and I feel myself fighting the urge to run back to my seat. Diavolo seems to notice that I have regained my senses a bit and speaks up once more, this time also holding his arms out to me. “Please, my dear. Come to me and I will take care of it.”

Once more my feet are in motion before I can think it, and once I reach him, I am back inside my head and wondering what the hell to do now. There’s no other chair to pull up near him, but he sees my struggle and reaches out for my hip, and pulls me to sit in his lap. I didn’t expect this even a little, I’m probably in shock, and I am a ragdoll as he adjusts so that my hips sit more perfectly balanced across his thighs, and then he gathers the hair that hangs down from my clip, and swings it over my shoulder. He plucks the earring box from my clutch easily, then proceeds to push the earring through perfectly. I feel a tiny twinge of pain on one side, and then no pain on the other, but then they’re in and for some reason now I feel myself breathing in more deeply. I want to say something, protest, but I am a still life, shadows and light frozen and captured to admire at leisure, even the breath in my lungs feels like it knows not to move quite yet, despite the fact that it does indeed flow in and out of me, with increasing intensity as the seconds flow by.

Once both earrings have their backs in place, he sweeps my hair back behind my head again, and runs his big ol’ paws over my arms, and it reminds me of the way I sometimes pet my cat’s forelegs when I’m trying to brush knots out from his chest and under his chin and he needs the reassurance. I speak in hardly a whisper when I finally find that I can speak again. “Thank you. I’ll just head back to my own seat now.” and before I can even try to move to brace myself or shift my hips, I can feel him laughing, and the dinner plates he calls hands are holding onto my waist.

“No need. Barbatos, can you bring her plate and things over here?” At Barbatos’ nod, “Thank you.” Then I can feel a whisper in my ear, the breath from the whisper is warm and feels like a touch all on its own, and I cannot help the full body shudder it invokes. “Those look so perfectly fetching on you, sweetheart. I think I like you in my jewels. Black diamonds are my signature gem, and they suit you like they were made for you my dear.”

Black diamonds always make me think of the Queen of Air and Darkness, fae queen of the Gloaming Court. A favorite figure of mine when I read about the fae. I have typically been so careful around beings that remind me of the fae, but all of the sudden I realize that I should have had those same guards up for demons from the beginning, and I wonder how screwed I am already.

He knew my name from moment one, before I could provide a preferred thing they can call me. I am at the whims of eldritch creatures. He’s already seen me half-nude, has seemed to consider himself entitled to change the course of my life from nearly moment one, its likely he considers my humanity a fun novelty he can throw off at will, and now he likes the sight of me in his signature jewelry.

Come to think of it, my earrings are a near perfect match for miniatures of his tie pin on his school uniform. I did not think this through literally at all. I have family to go back home to, baby niece and nephews to snuggle with again, and I am quite suddenly overwhelmed to the point that I can’t pluck one thought from the mass in my head, its all a fog of anxiety inducing mist now, and I cannot tell up from down and I would have trouble breathing in a moment, but I am moving again.

Lord Diavolo has pulled me back into his chest, and has just placed a hand over my eyes. The combination of warmth and dark is unfortunately soothing me back from the edge again, and I know that at my level of screwed, I can only go with the flow.

“There, with that taken care of you are perfectly safe from now on.” My breath normalized, he removes his hand, but leaves me leaned up against his chest, and slides an arm around my waist. I had already mentally committed to staying put, but perhaps I can take this as reassurance that he cannot read my mind, not fully anyway. “Was there anything else you wanted to bring up before we dismiss this meeting?”

I debate waiting and speaking to Lucifer about it alone, but If I play it off vague enough this may actually be safer. He cannot attack me where I sit, even remotely, considering it will likely get him in trouble. “I had trouble sleeping last night. I kept hearing a voice call out for help, and I felt the oddest urge to wander out of the safety of my room to wander in the dark house as high as I could. It felt like something the sluttly cheerleader in the beginning of a horror movie experiences before she goes looking for the voice and gets got. I have no desire to find curses or ghosts, so I just wanted to know if there was anything I could do to make sure I sleep more restfully tonight, without giving in to the voice or the urge the voice instills in me.” There, vague, no blame can be placed on me, and this gets him to take care of the voice for me. If anyone needs to get got, it’s not gonna be me.

Lucifer for just the briefest moment looks like he could murder me where I sit, but just as quickly the look is gone and he looks performatively thoughtful. “Did any of my brothers give you the history of the house when you got the tour?”

“No, I actually haven’t had a tour of the house yet either. This is another reason I didn’t want to try going wandering, I’d likely get lost and end up in some forbidden garden full of man-eating plants or some other such nightmare fuel. Why?”

“Ah, it’s not your imagination making things up after hearing the story of the House of Lamentation then. My brothers and I haven’t actually experienced any sign of true haunting so far, but you are the first human to inhabit the house since we acquired it, so that may be a factor. I will have to investigate, I’ve never had the need to look into it before.”

“After this meeting then, why don’t you take me on a tour of the House and we’ll take note of any odd feeling I get throughout the house, and we can use that as a starting grounds for narrowing down the first step to fixing the issue. Then we’ll know how to go about testing the fix this way too. On a bright side, I have the skill of being able to fall asleep anywhere at any time if I need to, so if it is somehow linked to sleep, we don’t have to wait until night to test things out.”

I see looks of skepticism and can’t help feeling immediately defensive. It’s probably my most valuable life skill! Learning to fall asleep whenever possible saved me through years of working two jobs and taking full time classes, and then through poorly coordinated scheduling with two jobs, and just, I think I wouldn’t have survived nearly this long without it. Not only because I can sleep whenever, going into REM quickly, but I can stay lucid, so I can still wake myself up and get off of the bus at the right stop and feel rested, even if just a little bit. Bastards, they don’t know how valuable it is. People would kill for a skill like this! “That doesn’t seem possible for humans. Are you sure you’re really sleeping?” I don’t see how Lucifer feels qualified to determine what is or isn’t possible for a human. When did he last interact with any humans for any real length of time? Arrogant jerk-off.

“Positive. I’ve had others test with me to make sure. My heart rate and breaths match that of my normal sleeping stats, and once I even snored while napping on a side table in the common room at my community college.” I see the question they don’t want to ask shining like concern in their eyes. “The couches were all taken, so I sat, cross-legged, on one of the side tables next to the couches and slept like that. I think it’s because I was asleep in a sitting position that made the snoring so loud. I’m not often told I snore, I do talk in my sleep though.”

“Fair enough. We’ll commence the tour right away and then lead straight into our investigation and testing. I must ask that if I give you any directions, for your own safety, you must do exactly as I bid you. Are we understood?”

“I will obey perfectly, you may rest assured, Lucifer. I have no desire to rush into any danger, or put myself at risk of weird ghostly or magical things. The only instructions I may have trouble with are those telling me to go into areas that feel spooky or unsafe. If you do tell me though, I will be trusting your judgement to keep me safe though, so please take care of me.” I know trusting a demon is wildly stupid, but I am telling the most powerful two beings in this realm that I trust them to keep me safe. 

This feels like better insurance than any bluffing or going on about not trusting them could accomplish. Letting powerful figures believe they have more power over me than they really do has always proven itself as a worthwhile tactic in my experience. It makes them underestimate me and gives me room to maneuver and distance to remain skeptical. It also makes then place more trust in me and actual trust is the most advantageous commodity in existence. I’m glad that I had so many savvy women who raised me, or I might have taken a lot longer to figure out that being a person in a position of less general power does not have to mean I have less personal power to wield. I am often the only woman in a room, and as horrifying as that prospect should be for any sane woman who has her own safety as a priority, it is my reality, and I make the best of my place in the world, no matter where that might be. 

I grew up as the only girl in my neighborhood, went on to honors classes where I was one of a handful of girls, and then went on to work in fields where I was usually the only woman in the building, or at least the only woman in the room. I have been the only woman on the payroll before, and I am never the first person they think to try to screw over or fire. In fact, I’ve never been fired. 

I make myself the most indispensable person on any team I’m a part of. Being useful is a type of power I can always summon. I’m also pretty, which is another power I’m not afraid to employ. I’m comfortable enough in my body that despite rarely being the tallest or beefiest person in the room, I command one of the biggest presences. After an entire lifetime of my mother beating proper posture into me, even at rest, I have the straightest shoulders and spine in any room. Only model skeletons have me beat. A stiff spine, straight, rolled back shoulders, and a properly level chin will do wonders for how people view you. 

Control how people view you, and you control your whole relationship with them. A person in control of a relationship can’t be coerced into an abusive relationship, and I’ll be damned if I am ever that powerless again. No matter who the other person is. If my own mother isn’t allowed to abuse me, I have no compunctions with disallowing any other being alive from having enough of me to hurt me with. And right now, I do probably have less power than I am used to, trapped on the lap of the Prince of all demons. 

Appearing to know my place is also a valuable skill for avoiding trouble.

I may still feel defensive, but my posture is all supplication and deference. These bitches would have to be reading my mind to see how I trust them as far as I can throw them, and I have the upper body strength of a particularly wimpy toddler. “I’m glad to hear you’re so reasonable, we should have no trouble working together then. You may rest assured that no harm shall come to you under my care. I will not see Lord Diavolo’s trust in me misplaced. I have every intention of making this program a success, and you must remain in good repair for that.”

I give them both a timid smile. “I hope that ‘good repair’ does account for the fact that I may never be legitimately and fully healthy. You must be reasonable about the body I have been given. That said, I will do my best to communicate clearly about my needs as they arise, and I will rely on you to communicate clearly when making sure I am not exposed to external dangers while I am here and under your care.” In good repair, in good health, in good condition. How many euphemisms for healthy have I heard before? Health is not a metric for the value of a person and their life, my health is not a metric for my value to this program. I know they mustn’t endanger me, but I feel they need constant reminding that there is a difference. The vicious grin I want to let loose must lie buried underneath demure manners.

Lord Diavolo just looks charmed. As he should. He sounds chagrined however, when he speaks up again. “I think that about wraps up our meeting today then. So I shall let you up and Lucifer will escort you back to the House of Lamentation. Please do keep me updated as you work this out. I’m very interested in making sure this is properly resolved.”

When they opted to a non-magical, regular human, I don’t think they could possibly have planned for all the ways I would end up finding every flaw and loophole in their plans. I feel a vindictive satisfaction at that thought, and take my opening to scoot and hop off of Diavolo’s lap. Domineering dork-ass. I still can’t believe I just, wandered over to him like that. I wasn’t being compelled, as much as I’d like to say it was beyond my control. He’s just too pretty and I’m weak. I like pleasing men I’d like to be pleased by. He seemed quite pleased by my acquiescence. As one would expect of royalty.

After snagging my bag and slinging it over my shoulder I turn to find that Lucifer is already by the door looking at me expectantly. It’s a bitchy power move, so I stroll over slowly after popping one last bite into my mouth. Messy this time, so I have something to lick off of my lips as I make eye contact with him. I know I’m breaking the first rule again, but if he wants to make this a power struggle, I’m game. I’m a submissive, but I’m not easy, and I like making my doms earn my submission. I can tell he’s the type who just expects submission by merit of who he is. Even if he is the glorious Morning Star, that means exactly jack to me. My smile is blithe once I have licked the last of the chocolate off my lips and take the last few feet between us at the same slow pace I’ve been going at thus far. As the gap between us narrows so do his eyes, but dutifully, he holds out an elbow for me to take so I may be properly escorted to our destination.

Upon reaching him, I wind my arm through his elbow and prepare for the no doubt too-quick pace he’ll adopt to get back at me. He won’t even have to try to out pace me with how long his legs are compared to mine. His relaxed speed is probably faster than my normal, ‘I have somewhere to be’ walking pace. I have practice walking with tall people, but that’s beside the point. He should correct for my height and walk slower.

He practically drags me away until we are out of hearing range of the prince. He has no legitimate reason to be angry at me, so I’m curious to see what he’s been so anxious to say. “Tell me more about what you experienced, and don’t leave anything out. Not a single detail, no matter how insignificant it may seem.”

“The voice was audible to me both awake and asleep in my dreams. I often lucid dream, so I was able to compare and noted it sounded the same both ways, if a bit stronger while I was actually fully asleep. The voice echoed in my head, so it was less like hearing it than someone speaking directly into my head. It didn’t start until I started to daydream as I often to in an attempt to lull my mind into sleep. I usually think about recent dreams and try to put myself back into those storylines to get my brain to stop buzzing and get waking trains of thought to stop.”

I have to pause here to find the right words. “It was like my daydream was invaded by this distressed, but sedate voice calling for help. That was another thing that made it seem like a trap. The voice sounded way too lazy to inspire any real distress in me for their cries for help. When the voice was saying something, the compulsions to go upstairs got stronger, like the act of speaking concentrated the focus of the origin of whatever was trying to appeal to me. As I became more awake and less sleepy, the voice seemed to lose power over me. By the time I needed to get up for the day, the compulsion was just a low level hum in the background of my mind, weaker even than one of my lesser tics.”

“Thank you. I think that gives me a good lead on the situation. Once we get inside, I’ll leave you at your room so you can drop your things off and get comfortable. I’ll come back by after I get my things stowed away and we will go on that tour.”

“Awesome. I can do that. I am psyched to see where everything is and hear you talk about it. It’s been driving me up the wall not to know anything about where I’m staying.”

“Well, the house actually existed first in the human realm with a family living together in it. Each member of the family was brutally murdered, each in a different way in a different room. The only survivor was the oldest son, who blamed the servant who hung himself in his own room. The son continued to live there until his own death. After this neighbors claimed to see figures in the windows, or claimed to hear shouting and screaming and arguments, despite the house being unoccupied. It was said to be haunted or cursed and this is when it gained its name, the House of Lamentation. It was brought here to become the dorm for the student council members, save for Lord Diavolo, who lives in his own castle as the Prince of the Devildom. The other exchange students live in another dorm, called Purgatory Hall. Since you would be relying on our powers to help complete your tasks, it was determined that you would be safest in our dorm.”

“That is some haunted ass bullshit. I almost want to beg to be rehomed to Purgatory Hall, but you’re probably right about it being safest with you guys. Ugh. At least the place is gorgeous.”

“Just the House is gorgeous? That’s the only reason?” I don’t even have to look to know how smug he probably looks.

“Gorgeous dudes are dime a dozen. Pretty houses I get to live in are not. Male attention is more a burden than a gift anyway, so I wouldn’t get ahead of yourself, Mr. Massive-Ego.” I can hear growling. “Oh, don’t give me that. It’s literally in your title to have an out of control ego, Avatar of Pride.”

“Regardless, you would do best to show some more respect. I am one of the most powerful beings in this realm, I am one of the Rulers of the Devildom.”

“I have plenty of respect for your strength, power, and position. That doesn’t mean I have to entertain your shitty one-liners.”

He begins walking just a smidge faster, and I have a brief moment of fierce joy that I struck a nerve and he can’t lash out at me. I don’t even mind the slight jog I have to take up to keep up with him as the House is in view, and I don’t have to keep it up for long.

When we get to the doors, he does maintain enough decorum to open the door for me and let me go inside first. I’m less surprised when he escorts me all the way to my door before whisking himself away to his own room. I know he’ll be back as soon as possible, so I drop my bag on my desk and start to strip off my uniform. I will not wear this abomination for longer than necessary. Once the jacket is off I already feel worlds better, but I’m equally against button up shirts, so that sucker has to go too. I end up in a heather gray off-the-shoulder, slouchy crop top sweatshirt and a pair of 80s style running shorts in black with white piping, and a pair of black fuzzy socks with little rubber dots along the sole of the foot. I unclip my hair and tie it up in a bun with just enough time for Lucifer to let himself in.

I walk out of my bathroom to find him waiting impatiently, still buttoned up to his neck. I feel myself frown at it before I can school my face back into a neutral expression. “Sorry for the delay. I’m ready now. Please, lead on.”

He looks like he wants to say something about my outfit, but can’t figure out how to do it with enough manners to come off looking properly distanced from the situation. My ass is likely hanging out, but it does that in most athletic shorts. Its honestly just how my ass is. It’s just out there. The shorts have a high enough waist to hide my muffin top a little, and short enough to show off the little birthmark on my upper right thigh. I’m comfy and I feel cute and I know I likely look just positively soft, and if so, it’s true. I am very soft. Besides, this bitch saw fit to just let me act like an idiot with the Prince, so he can suffer with his own temptations and ego. And its not like he has any right to dictate how modestly I dress, especially within the relative safety of the dorms. I have all the vitals covered, everything else is just spice.

He spins on his heel and stalks out of my room. I am right on his heels, and don’t care to keep any distance between us. It appears he’s leading me back to the entrance hall to start there. “As I’m sure you’ve gathered, this is the entrance, what you may not have gathered is that it leads on directly into the living room, if you don’t go up the stairs. Through here is where we get to the dining room, and through here, the kitchen. All familiar enough territory, I’m sure. Now, through the other doorway in the living room we are led into a hallway which branches off to the main library, the shared bathroom, and the common room. Come with me upstairs.” He speeds off with no care taken to account for my shorter stature. He is so bitchy.

“The second floor is of course home to your room, but also to the rooms of Beelzebub, Leviathan, and my own room.” He does take the time to point at different doors as he lists them. “Up the next flight, are Mammon’s, Satan’s and Asmodeus’s rooms, the music room, the planetarium, and my office. Further up is where the attic lies, which is my own personal space, and is banned to all but myself. As you can see, the stairwell between the floors also serves as the portrait hall. Our own portraits are hung here along with other important figures and portraits of members of the original human family who lived here.”

“Shit. Okay, uh, gimme a second. Let me just briefly look over all the portraits so I have something to reference in my memory in case I see anything weird.” Lucifer looks at me with an expression that clearly says I’m an idiot, but I’ve seen the shadows of ghosts and shades before, and something tells me that being in Hell will not make it so that there are no such things here to see. “I lived across from several graveyards more often than not as a kid, I grew up seeing spirits and the shadows the dead leave behind. It would only be par for the course if I did see whatever’s haunting this fuckin place, so shut up.” I then just ignore the way his gaze burns into the back of my head as a I quickly but efficiently work my way through observing each portrait just long enough to make an entry in my memory for it. I don’t bother with names, as I figure I can just come back to reference anything I think I see later on.

Soon enough, I’ve made it up to where Lucifer has been waiting for me, and he immediately marches on. He stalks down the hallway to his study, where he stops to point out the door, as I will no doubt need to know how to get here later. I get the feeling this is where we’ll get called to when he wants to lecture us. He does then walk me to the base of a spiral stairway which I gather leads to the attic. He makes to walk up it, and I plant my feet firmly at the doorway, anxious not to go any further.

I hear him call down to me from one of the lower steps. “Are you incapable of going further?” He doesn’t sound frustrated, just curious. I’ll bet this is where the tour turns into the testing we talked about.

“I stopped willingly. I still think it sounds like a stupid fuckin plan to follow an actual ass demon up some spooky spiral stairs to a haunted attic. I value the prospect of Not Dying!”

“You will not die if you attempt to take a few steps. Now please perform the test.”

I look up and shoot him the most vicious glare I can muster. I probably look terrified, but either way works. I take slow, showy, deliberate steps until I reach where he’s at. “Shall I go further, to see if I am stopped at any point, or?”

“No.” The answer is immediate. I feel his hand on my lower back, and I am being bodily guided away from the attic. I don’t fight it at all, as I can’t wait to get away from this section of the house. As soon as we pass the doorway to the stairs I have to fight the urge to just keep power walking away, as I can feel that Lucifer has stopped and likely wants me to stop too.

I turn and look up at him, “Yes, Sir?” Please lemme go down another floor? Or like, into your office? I hate the way this place feels.” I will not beg, but I can’t stop my inner mental voice from screaming the things I’d like to be begging, were I less stubborn.

“Now, do you feel anything of the compulsion or hear the voice?” I shake my head. “Hmm, okay. I don’t want you to try to fall asleep here and be at risk of being disturbed by my brothers, so I’m going to leave you in my office and have you go to sleep. I’ll give you a few minutes and then wake you to find out if you feel it in there before moving on to perform my part of the test. My office has some shielding, but I’m not sure if it’ll factor into what we’re testing for. Does this sound acceptable?”

“Yes, Sir. I can work with that.” He nods then leads on and opens the door to his study for me. I walk in and drape myself over the nearest couch, I don’t wait for his leave, I just start trying to calm my mind and relax into a state I can nap in. I don’t remember the last sequence of dreams I was having before this, so I try to recall the last daydream I was working through. Trying to remember is keeping me from fully relaxing though, so I probably have to come up with a new daydream to drift off to. Fuck. I want to come up with some story to think through, but I can’t help fixating on the attractive jackass in the room with me. Fantasizing about him lustfully won’t help me sleep though, so I start by thinking about snuggling up against his chest instead of the back of the sofa I’ve shoved my face into in an attempt to block out the light, and to stifle the urge to let my eyes stay open to watch Lucifer.

I feel stupid as hell, but soon enough, my imagination is going full blast, thinking of him petting through my hair, running his hands up and down my spine, and I feel myself fall into a blank dreamspace. That’s weird. Normally I’d have dropped into an actual dream about my fantasy. I try to summon the image of being snuggled up to Lucifer, but the closest I can get is a memory image of him pacing around his office while I try to sleep. After a moment of watching him pace, I begin to hear the call for help. It sounds distressed and irritated this time, not just lazy. After a moment of hearing the cries for help, the compulsion strikes, and if I was deeper in sleep, I might’ve begun to sleepwalk.

Next thing I know, I’m being shaken awake and I turn to see that I’ve been moved partially into Lucifer’s lap. Voice muzzy, I offer up my results before he can ask. “Went into a blank dreamspace I couldn't control despite being lucid. I tried to fall back into the daydream I used to fall asleep, but it wouldn’t come. I did hear the voice and begun to feel that compulsion. Strong.”

“Shhh. I understand. You actually sat up and almost fell over. I think you were about to try to stand and walk there. I’m going to need to lock you in here for your safety while we perform this test. I almost fear leaving you on the sofa in case you actually do fall next time though.” I can tell he has solutions to this problem, but they’re likely questionable and he doesn’t expect that I’ll agree.

“I haven’t tried to sleep tied up before, but I’m willing to give it a shot if it means I’m less likely to break my fuckin arms or some shit. I’m also open to other solutions, if you have them.”

My eyes meet his and he just looks so fed up. It’s incredible that he can say without words but with such crystal clarity that I am the dumbest fuckwit of a bitch he’s ever laid eyes upon. “Absolutely not. I was just thinking how much I hate moving furniture once I like where it’s at, but that’s precisely what I shall have to do. I’ll just move the coffee table out of the way and move the other couch up against this one, that way you’re cradled on both sides.”

Wow. That is a simple and elegant solution. I really do feel like a dumbass. “To be fair, now that I’ve provided the dumbest possible solution, doesn’t yours feel a lot less of a chore to carry out? You know it could be so much worse.” It’s a weak attempt to save my pride, but I had to at least give it a passing shot. “Do you need me to move so you can move the couches?”

He snorts, inelegant, but it says more than words can how dumb I am to him right now. “Even if I did need to move that couch, I can easily do so with you on top of it. You need only lay back and I will arrange the rest, lock you in, and the test will continue. So, please, just lay back and fall back asleep. I’m not entirely convinced that you woke all the way back up this time.” Ouch. Fair enough though.

I do exactly that. I flop back over and roll onto my side and shove my face into the back of the couch once more. I am out like a light this time, I don’t even remember hearing him move the furniture around before I’m back in that blank, purpley-black dreamscape. I can’t help talking to myself here. “This is some capital B Bullshit. I had a perfectly good daydream to fall into as a dream. Whoever is fucking with me in my sleep, I don’t fucking appreciate it. My sleep is sacred. Not to mention I’m chronically fucking ill, and any lack of sleep aggravates any one of several conditions. You’re actually physically harming me. If you legit want my help, knock this shit hell off. And just in case it means anything to you, Lucifer knows my dreams are being disturbed and that I’ve felt compulsions drawing me towards the attic.”

I hear an immaterial roar of fury, and the formless dreamscape around me seems to shake, despite there being no actual objects or landmarks to judge this by, it’s a feeling I get. Soon enough, the shaking has spread to me and I can feel my whole body shuddering. The roaring picks up and I can physically feel my own sight overcome by red in a bizarre empathetic reaction. Likely some property of this clearly magical dream space.

I see an illusion that resembles a pair of malevolent violet eyes in front of me before fading out and I fall into the daydream I was aiming for before. I’m peaceably settled in Lucifer's arms, being cuddled and held close, and he’s combing through my hair with his fingers, stopping to massage my scalp every so often. I hear that same voice from the dreamscape scoff one last time, then I feel the compulsion release its hold on me and the echoes of the voice fade out until it’s just Lucifer and I.

I whisper to the dream Lucifer. “You must have figured it out. Clever, strong, and sexy, Just my type. Now if only you were a little less prickly, it’s so hard to cuddle a defensive porcupine.” I know the real one won’t hear any of it, so I just bury my head into his dream self’s neck and allow myself to feel the tranquility of the scene, the moment as I have imagined it.

Next thing I know, I’m being gently shaken awake, and I know he’s come to retrieve me. I open my eyes, and it feels like I’ve been woken from REM. I’m mega hazy, and my eyelashes are sticking together a little. I rub at my eyes with both firsts while I ask what I already know the answer to. “You got it shut down, didn’t you? I felt it, and dropped into an actual dream. I even felt the compulsion lose its hold.” I have to pause to yawn. “Think it’ll hold up?”

“What kind of amateur do you take me for? Of course it’ll hold up. I’m glad you could confirm that what I did resolved the issue. The being causing the disturbance to your dreams, and its powers, have been confined to the attic now. I know you’ve expressed no desire to enter the attic, but in case one of my brothers gets any stupid ideas about it, I need you to understand how dangerous any breaches of the defenses I’ve set up would be for you. Whether you’re there or not, if that barrier is violated, it will regain access to you, and after having been denied, it will likely be angrier than ever. Stop any of these bad ideas if you can. If you can’t, tell me immediately.”

“Yes, Sir. I’ll do exactly as you say and if I can’t, I’ll tattle tale as soon as physically possible. I’ll be a good girl. Now, can you carry me to my bed? I’m really sleepy.” I feel a hot flush across my cheeks after I say it, but I feel half asleep still, and I’m feeling very soft towards him after dream him was so sweet and snuggly. I need to find a new dream, like, yesterday.

I can hear him chuckle in response before I am lifted into the air and settled against a broad, firm chest. “Just this once, Princess. Next time you’ll need to walk back on your own.” I murmur an agreement I don’t mean against his chest. I can feel myself being settled into all my squashy blankets and my knit throw is tugged over me. “Now, you’ll still need to get up in time for dinner, so I’ve set an alarm on your D.D.D. Send me a text when you wake up or I’ll send Mammon to wake you.” Micromanaging fuckin’ worry wart. Getting into my phone, even if it is to be helpful.

“Okie dokie, Daddy. I’ll wake up on time, so don’t send brother to wake me. K?” I sound, and am, delirious with sleep, which is probably for the best. I’m not awake long enough to hear him react to my joke, which I’m glad for. It was in poor taste. Jokes in poor taste are my favorites, especially when I don’t have to stew in their aftermath. A swift exit after a joke bombs. That’s how I roll. Roll over in bed in this case.

I wake up to an awful screeching and bolt up to a seated position in bed, letting blankets fall where they will as I look around for the source of the racket. It’s my D3, and someone else set it. I’d never have set such a horrific noise, I hate being mad or irritated when I wake up. A faint memory of Lucifer tucking me in filters into my mind, and I can’t help cussing him out in my head. Petty fucking bastard. I turn off the alarm and take a quick peek at myself in the bedroom mirror. I look fine, if a bit scruffy. I debate tidying up, but figure, they wanted to live with me for a year, might as well get as close to the full experience as I’m willing around other conscious beings, as soon as possible. I’m not about to walk around in my underwear around these jerks like I would at home.

D3 only in hand, I exit my room and head back down to the dining room. I remember vague threats of sending Mammon after me, and if he’s half as much of a little brother as my own, he will be the worst way to wake up, by sheer merit of how much he doesn’t want to be doing the task, which means making me as miserable as possible so he can get a pass on being asked to do it next time. I know how they work. Do shitty at it so nobody wants to ask you again. I also know it’ll only make it so that Lucifer would keep asking just to make Mammon do something he doesn’t want to. It’s page 1 in the eldest sibling playbook. It’s exactly what I’d do, what I did do with chores and my own little brother. I will not get myself caught in the middle of a sibling slap fight, metaphorical or no, I want none of it.

I make my entrance into the dining room by dramatically throwing the door open, and posing in the door. My only audience is Lucifer, and he looks every inch the devil I know he literally is. His smirk is a thing of nightmares and wet dreams in equal measure, which should not be allowed. “Good evening. Sleep well, Princess?”

I walk in and allow the door to shut behind me as I use a Vegas show-girl walk to stalk towards the seat to his left. I stop and pose in a ta-da gesture halfway. In my pose, I announce, “Yes, I slept deeply.” I drop my pose gracelessly and storm over, letting my face take on a stony expression. I find the chair has already been pulled out, so I drop into it smoothly and cross my legs at the ankles, turning my body to face him. “Until the most hellacious alarm possible roused me and killed any chance I had at not being irritated. You’re a jackass.”

“I only returned the favor. One good tease deserves another. Or do you disagree?”

“Tease? I hope you know I’m not responsible for anything I say when I’m either half-asleep or actually asleep. Those words escape without my consent, and I usually don’t remember them. If I teased you before you tucked me in, I have no recollection of it.” This is a vicious and blatant lie. “Had it been something I planned or meant to say, I agree, I’d had it coming. In this case? I was as much a victim as you of whatever I said.”

“No no, that’s not how that works, sweetheart. You must take responsibility for all your words, even if you were decidedly delirious.”

“Nuh uh. Nope. Sleepy me is an unsupervised menace, and I want no part of her shenanigans. She is truly her own worst enemy. My worst enemy. That bitch is her own person with her own relationships with people. Get back at sleepy-me, not well-rested-me.”

“Come now, tell me truly. You don’t expect me to believe that you have a legitimately separate relationship with your own behavior when you’re tired?”

“I expect only that you will recognize the truth when you hear it. I have a similarly distant relationship with drunk-me. I leave goodies in my purse or around my apartment for drunk-me to find, and to help her out because I know that bitch is useless. If I have the time to anticipate sleepy-me will be a factor in a situation, I generally try to minimize her interactions with people and give her as little to do as possible. She’s also useless.”

I get only a raised eyebrow in response.

“It’s fine if you don’t believe me, but my twitter will attest at least to the relationship with my drunk-self. I know of at least a good half-dozen occasions I tweeted about writing while drunk and laughed about the editing I was leaving to my sober-self. Present and future-me have similar relationships documented on Twitter.”

His mouth opens suddenly as if to reply with some rapier wit, but it stops before any sound can manifest. It’s insane sounding, I know, but it’s true. I am not the same woman as who I was in the past, which means that the woman I am in the future is not the same person as me. It’s only fair that I treat her as such. When I’m good, I try to be kind to my other selves, when I’m bad, I intentionally do things that I know will make my other selves’ lives difficult because it’s fun in the now. I’ve done it before, and dutifully picked up after my past-self’s mischief, and I know my future-self must do the same. The same logic works with sleep and substance impaired me. I don’t think the same way when not under the influence of those conditions, thus, different person. It’s probably not healthy, but it works for me for now. If it stops working, I’ll change and adapt.

“Twitter, was it?” Oh, no. I hope he doesn’t mean to do what I think he does.

“I was told you don’t have access to human social media networks here, but yes. I’ve had one for like, a decade now, and I mostly shout into the void with that app. Any actual followers I have are simps, there just to like my posts and my reply guys, and their title is self-explanatory. It’s not a thing I use to talk to other humans, I just kinda document my mental state and scream at the void, because imagining I’m talking to a larger something that cares nothing for me is comforting and makes for better posts. Please do yourself a favor and don’t try to read through it. That’s a fool’s errand. It’s garbage.”

“Such high praise of your own writing.”

“Everyone deserves a means of venting, ranting, and getting the bullshit out of their bloodstream. That’s mine. It’s like asking to go through a person’s trash to get to know them better. Yeah, in a sense, I guess it work, but it’s a biased and skewed view of who they are and how they live. It’s fully removed from context and the useful bits.”

He makes a humming noise at me and makes no further effort to converse. It doesn’t get to go on long enough for me to try to force the issue though, as Asmodeus waltzes in, followed shortly by Satan and Leviathan. It’s amazing how much life and noise erupts with the entrance of so few people. Satan and Leviathan are going back and forth about the best story elements of a mystery and seem to be desperate not to let Asmo take over the conversation. A voice in my head screams that I should see what they’re so desperate to keep him from saying, but literally every other part of me recalls that I like Leviathan and Satan seems reasonable. I generally try to trust the judgement of reasonable people.

Then again, even Lucifer is talking around Asmo. Fuck him. “Hey Asmo.” My voice is soft, but loud enough to carry. My tone is gentle and begs to be told the latest gossip. It’s that tone that says, ‘I’m listening, Girl. I got you.’ I will probably live to regret this, but I make decisions I intend to regret all the time.

“Oh, Cherie, you won’t believe it. Satan here is  _ such _ a brute! He said that when people think of modeling and the rulers of the Devildom, they think of Mammon. Not moi! I am obviously the more beautiful brother, and I should be the one they think of when thinking of a model’s good looks.”

“Mammon? Why the hell would they think of Mammon as a model? Yeah, dude’s fine, but uh, weird.”

“Oh, that? He models fairly regularly to fund his awful spending habits and gambling debts.”

“Oh, odd. I can see it though. Alright, do you model nearly as often as he does?”

“Hah! No. I only model when it interests me, I would never just wear anything they want to put me in. Only the most gorgeous clothing should be seen on me.”

“Well then, there you have it. If Mammon is modeling near constantly and you almost never do, it’s only fair that he’s the one people think of as the model of the family. You’re just being self-obsessed and Lucifer has that sin on lockdown.”

I hear “Excuse you” in the background as Satan erupts into laughter as Leviathan tries not to crack up. I just grin happily at the increasingly dark looking demon across from me.

Beel makes a timely entrance carrying huge platters of food he leaves on the table. I guess it was his turn today.

“I never said you weren’t pretty, it’s just how basic psychology works. Frequency wins over impact almost every time. Maybe also look at focusing on runways vs shoots if you want a model reputation that differs from or trumps Mammon’s.”

He harumphs at me before turning his attention to the meal in front of him.

I serve myself a little bit of everything safe, and start with a big glass of water. As I’m drawing from my glass, Mammon thunders in and I find him in the seat next to me before I know it. I turn to Lucifer instead of greeting my guardian. “He wasn’t even home, was he! You threatened me with something that couldn’t even happen! You’re just throwing awful words around regardless of intent to carry them out! You lying whore!’

Asmo finds it in himself to cackle at this as Lucifer pulls himself up to his full sitting height to answer. “I am no such thing. I would have simply called him back to have him wake you up. No threat of mine is made without intent. You’d do well to remember that, little girl.”

Mammon leans over to me and stage whispers, “Thank you for not pushing him to do it, he’d have called me back and then punished me painfully for every second it took me to get there. He’s definitely always good for his threats.”

“Thank you, o Guardian, mine. I might still need to test him to be sure though. I was, after all, told not to trust demons. Right, Leviathan?”

“Hey, you leave me out of this! I warned you not to tell demons you trust them, I didn’t tell you disregard common sense.”

“Oh fine. You did tell me not to tell them I trust them so I didn’t set myself up to tempt a demon, which is not what’s going on here. I apologize, Levi. I hope you can forgive me.”

He sputters for a moment as all attention turns to him. “Just this once, but don’t forget who warned you about the dangers of the Devildom out of the goodness of my heart. Nobody else here would have done you that favor, newbie.”

I put food in my mouth in lieu of answering aloud, but I do nod at him. The rest of dinner is uneventful, but I feel like I’m learning a lot about my hosts. 

I figured Mammon ran on get rich quick schemes, who knew he had legit gigs too? It’s good to know that Asmo is such a narcissist too though, it makes me think I should watch out for blood lust just as much as the other kind from him. 

Satan is a snarky boy, but he did seem cynical from moment one. 

Levi is more willing to be open about doing me favors than I thought he would be, but that might have just been self-preservation. Though, knowing where self-preservation falls in a person’s priorities is a useful thing to know too. I think he and Mammon will likely align a bit in that regard. They’re both out for number one, and really, with sins like avarice and envy, that makes sense. 

Beel is quiet. He could be a wildcard, as a priority for food only tells you so much about behavior patterns, and he’s too big a boy to dismiss in any fashion. 

Lucifer is the subject of a lot of bullshit, and seems content just to listen until it’s convenient to wield his power.

Their sins help me imagine a lot of who they are, but that just leads me to wonder. “What about the 7th sin, Sloth?”

It’s amazing how immediately silence takes over the room. It settles like lead all around me, and I have to force myself to take another bite, just to make there be noise. I didn’t know I was walking into a minefield by asking what is an obvious question.

“Unless the Christians got something else wrong and there aren’t 7 cardinal sins, in which case, I apologize for my very human err.”

Damn. That didn’t lighten things up at all. Fuck. How do I fix it. I force another bite down my gullet. Finally, Beel speaks up. “The Avatar of Sloth was one of our representatives sent to the human world. He’s my twin, and the youngest. Now stop asking questions and eat your dinner.”

Well then. I see some issues here. These boys really put the fun in dysfunctional. “Thank you Beelzebub. I had no idea it would be a sensitive topic. I apologize for any distress I’ve brought up by asking. I was just reflecting on how your sins weigh in to your personalities and it made me wonder about sins and virtues on the whole, a very simple topic of thought, and nothing deep or invasive. I assure you. The food is delicious, by the way. Thank you for the meal.”

I see some shoulders lose their tension, but Lucifer still looks like he could kill me where I sit. 

Beel just grunts before going back to his own food. Definitely the quiet type, and seems to dislike conflict. I can work with that. With a drama queen like Asmo and an obvious instigator like Satan, someone becoming the peace-maker makes sense, someone with less vested interest in breaking up disputes than Lucifer. Being the figure most in power makes for some conflict for the sake of conflict, even when trying to break up fights. This is a lesson I know intimately.

I might’ve had a bigger appetite, but nerves from the drama are making me shut down. I’m full. I push my plate away towards Beel, who takes it with nary a word. I lean over on Mammon’s shoulder and whine. “I’m full, I don’t wanna move. Will you carry me upstairs?”

“Ugh, no. Take care of yourself, human. I’m still eatin’.”

I sit up straight and throw my head back as I bluster “Fine! I didn’t wanna have a smelly jerk touch me anyway.” and he just huffs a laugh. I can hear the silent “Nice try, amateur.” I turn to Lucifer and ask. “May I be excused?”

At being addressed, he schools his face into something blank. He simply nods before taking another neat bite. I scoot my chair back and walk as calm and collected as I can out of the room. I hold pace and walk somewhat slowly up to my room. I’m not followed. I have the feeling that had I been nicer to Asmo he might’ve filled in some gaps, but I’ll be lucky if he even thinks of doing me favors any time soon. I just can’t help hating men like him, I may need to revise my behavior to get by while I’m here though. Especially if it looks like I may end up staying here. Making friends, even ones I get irritated by, is a way better plan than making enemies on principle. Especially making enemies of demons.

I make it to my bedroom unmolested, and I find the quiet of the house a little eerie. Once I get into my room I head to the bathroom and browse my D3 for a music app, find one, and let it play the top hits. Its all unfamiliar Devildom music, with the odd occasional human realm song. I strip while dancing around to it and hop into the shower to wash the day away. I almost wish I’d thought to get into the dildo cabinet before showering, but it’ll be best to wait for the weekend anyway. Take my time. Ugh. I am stressed though. I wish I had a vibe here.

I finish showering, braid my hair, brush my teeth, take extra tums, and some imodium in anticipation of anxiety riddled stomach malfunction tomorrow. I put on a pair of boyshorts and a long tee shirt and sat on my bed to scroll through the music to see if I can find more music I’m familiar with. Luckily, Human Realm music has its own section and genres within it. I put on a playlist that starts with Tik Tok and start to dance around. I might as well try to work some anxiety out of my system before going to bed. I’ll hate myself tomorrow if I don’t.

I only last a few songs before my heart just isn’t in it anymore. I turn it off and plug in the phone before turning on a gentle alarm and slipping into bed. It’s just starting to sink in that I have no support system here. I have a few fail safes, but death-prevention a support system does not make. That pact Levi talked about might not be such a bad thing to have. Ugh, I still hate the idea that I might be signing my soul away though. I have to learn more about everything here and make some alliances if not actual friends, and I have to do it all at once. I’d have been better left to struggle through things in the human realm, I think before drifting off into an uneasy sleep.


	4. Of sorcerers, spectres, and the selling of souls.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first lesson with Solomon, and the first pact is made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm filling in a bit of lore on magic as I've decided it should work in my AU here. This took some revising so as not to conflict with future plans. I think I have it, but may have to come back and edit this more later if I suck. I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> The note at the end contains potentially triggering content related to current events in America. If you know it may trigger you, please scroll past. Its traumatic out there for lots of folks, and you need to protect yourself. The images and references to violence are no joke. If you need to avoid the mention, I don't blame you. You do you, boo. <3

I wake up on time, decently well rested, and with only minor tummy grumbling. I’m in far better shape than I thought I would be. I don’t trust it and pack my pill case with Zofran and a little of everything else I can take at will. It doesn’t wanna shut because it’s not meant to hold this much, but I’ve done it before and I fucking do it again. I take my dailies, and my pill case gets thrown into my bag in a small pocket in the front and I slip on a cloth hairband to brush my teeth and wash my face.

I hear my door open and shut and just finish what I’m doing. I decide to wear my hair in loose waves from the braid and just comb it out and straighten my part. That done, I walk out into my bedroom proper to find Mammon complaining while he peruses his phone. “Good morning, my dear guard dog.” He just huffs and waves a hand at me as if to say “Fuck off” without any real investment in it. So I ignore him and take off my top and toss it at my clothing hamper on my way to my wardrobe. I choose nude nylons under my skirt today, and feel glad not to struggle with the coat anymore. It’s still too stiff and I still hate it, but it’s not actively fighting me anymore. 

I turn back to Mammon, only to see him immersed in his phone. I flounce over, jump onto the bed just behind him and drape myself over his shoulders, resting my head against his. “Whatcha doin?”

“Nunya. Now get the fuck off me, human!” He locks his D.D.D. and stows it in his jacket pocket before standing up, likely in hopes it’ll get me to let go. I clasp my hands together in front of him, and get dragged into hanging off his back, likely choking him a little. I can’t help laughing as I pull my chest back, bracing myself to try to talk to him.

“Lemme down! I need to grab my bag before we can go down to breakfast! If I let go it’ll hurt! You’re too tall!”

“Pain in the ass. I have so much better shit to be doing. Fuckin, let’s go already.” He says this, but he does crouch down so I can let go safely. Once I’m on my feet I dash over and sling my bag over my shoulder before stepping into my shoes and jogging back over to the door where Mammon waits impatiently for me.

The whole way down he’s complaining about how humans are usually an extra special delicacy and it sucks to have the snack bossing him around and ruining his life.

I’m tempted to make the same joke as yesterday, but instead I figure he’s my best bet at a first real ally. I wind my arm through the one nearest me, and lean in, smushing my boobs against his arm. “I’m sorry you got stuck with me, Mammon. I’m very grateful to have you though! I have such a strong, handsome guardian, I’m probably the luckiest human ever. Wouldn’t you say?”

He flushes up to the tips of his ears in a nice pink. The blush really highlights his great cheekbones. Truly, a very handsome boy. I lean into his arm even more as he sputters. “Of course you’d be glad to be around The Great Mammon! Remember how good you’ve got it, and just do what I say and we’ll get along fine.”

“Yes, Sir.” I capitulate easily. He seemingly has no response but continues to mutter to himself as he picks up speed and nearly drags me off to the dining room. It’s virtually empty when we get there, so I just snag a roll and spread a soft cheese on it to snack on while he picks up a Princess’s Poison Apple and bites right into it. Seeming not to want to waste a lot of time on a meal.

Before he can get back up and run off, I figure with him alone is my best chance to ask. “Mammon, last night, when I asked about the Avatar of Sloth, is the reaction always like that when he’s brought up? And should I apologize for having asked?”

“Fuckin’ hell. See, this shit is why I didn’t want this gig. I’m not good at this shit. No, don’t apologize. And yeah, it’ll probably always be about that frosty, so don’t go askin’ again. If you get close to Beel, he might voluntarily talk to you about Belphie, but he’d have to really trust you for that. Don’t go out tryin’ to get close to ‘im just so you can learn, either! He’ll know you’ve got other motives. Just, he and Lucifer got in a fight before he left. Like I told you before, Diavolo’s word is law here, and so is Luci’s. Belphie disagreed with them both. Until he comes back and apologizes or something, I don’t think any of us should be talkin’ about it. You got me?”

“Got it. Family drama I want none of. You bet yer sweet ass I’m not gonna go digging about it. Now, with that awkwardness out of the way, d’you you wanna eat an actual full breakfast, or do we wanna just scram?” Lying to demons shouldn't be so easy, but it is what it is.

I can see Mammon’s shoulders fall from the tense line they’d made with his chin, he just nods at me and stands up. Scramming outta here and onwards to school it is then. Now, I just need to dig around peripherally to see what the big fight was about, or at least how serious it was in reality, with the weight of egos not factored in. I know that stupid shit can blow up to epic proportions. I didn’t speak to my own little brother for like six months over some stupid shit he posted on facebook once. We even got a screaming fight about it within hearing of his two eldest. That was not our finest hour. The kids definitely believed us that we’re brother and sister after that though. I guess we’d been too cordial and nice to each other around them before that? Kids.

I don’t think Asmo is my best bet to hear details, even if I can get back on his good side. Satan or Levi might be observationally distanced enough to talk about it, but I’ll have to give it some emotional distance, wait it out before trying to ask anything. I think Mammon has told me all he’s willing to say on the matter. Beel kinda scares me. Dude is super huge and too quiet. Peacekeepers in a family are sometimes the ones with the worst tempers, despite him _not_ being the Avatar of Wrath. And I think I’d have to have an actual deathwish to ask Lucifer about it. Anyway, I have bigger fish to fry. I need information about pacts and their impact on the human soul, and magic in general. I also need to know if I’m here for a year or forever. If it’s forever, the state of my soul is likely less of a long term concern. Maybe.

Mammon and I make it with enough time that he actually leaves me at the door to my class, and I manage to focus reasonably well on taking useful notes in each of my classes through the day. I get a text confirming my lesson with Solomon after classes as well. We’re meeting in a classroom in the same hallway as the student council meeting room, and are scheduled to take about an hour. No word on if Mammon will escort me home, or if I have to figure it out for myself when the time comes. I’m excited, but nervous about spending time alone with my fellow human. He’s hard to read, and that makes me uncomfortable

The time for our lesson arrives too quickly. I’m still very nervous when I open the door to see him already seated and settled. I take a seat opposite him at the same table, and take out some paper and a pencil for notes.

“Well met, Sorcerer.” I hope I don’t sound too acerbic. I was shooting for genial, but I have a feeling I missed. He unnerves me.

“Well met, Cherie. Are you enjoying your time in the Devildom so far?” His grin reminds me of all the depictions I’ve seen of kitsune. The young face and white hair only add to that. He's a frickin cartoon character. It's uncanny.

“I don’t know that enjoy is the term I’d use, but it hasn’t been awful all the time yet, so we’re faring better than the human realm so far. I just seem to fuck up a lot no matter where I’m at, so get ready to tutor a fuck-up, buttercup.”

He laughs, and he manages to sound almost surprised. “Fair enough. And who knows, learning from me and building a solid foundation in the use of magic may make things make more sense to you in more than one way. Now, do you want to ask questions about magic first, or should I just tell you what I think is best to know when starting off?”

I take a moment to consider, but honestly, I don’t know what I don’t know here. Even if he has an agenda of some kind, there are too many unknown unknowns for me to feel good trying to ask questions. I'd just give away my priorities even more than I probably have done on accident leading up to this. “I have a few questions, but I have a feeling they’ll make more sense with context, so I’ll listen to you and see if the context answers the questions for me.”

He grins and it still looks a little too sharp, but it feels more genuine this time. “The use of magic is an expression of energy or effort spent, as molded by intent. Today I’ll go over the basic expressions of magic you’re most likely to come across or use, and how they work in relation to the caster.” That is a much better start than jumping in with my questions. I probably need to know this stuff for the answers to my questions to even make sense. Fuck. I’m so in over my head. I decide to take notes in my own personal shorthand and I’ll rewrite and decode them later.

“Magic can be imbued into an object as an enchantment or curse, cast towards a person as a charm or a hex, or applied to an area of space in form of a ward or spell. Magical creatures and beings also have use of magic natural to them, such as an allure or other ability. Those abilities often work similarly to charms or hexes though, so knowing how the others work will make magical skills make more sense. The method used to do each of these will vary as widely as the effects of the magic on the target of the effect of the magic, so we won’t bother with that yet.” Thank fuck. I feel like that could be its own course.

“Most magic is applied with the intent to be used for the desired effect once, then it wears off or is used up. This is the most efficient use of energy to impact, but if you concentrate through a ritual or something similar, you can cause magic to have a constant effect for the duration of the time you concentrate or keep the ritual up. This takes a lot of energy, so it’s more rarely used, and should have safeguards in place or the ritual will have factors in place to account for the amount of energy going into powering the magic. Permanently changing the properties of an object through enchantment counts as expending one use of the intent of the magic, but since the change is to something inherent to the core of the object, it takes up more energy than other types of magic as well.” That makes sense so far. I wonder if the attic thing was being enacted through a ritual. It doesn’t seem confined to any certain object I was in contact with, it just hinged on me being asleep.

“It is possible to use so much magic that you exhaust yourself to death, so planning and preparation is key in all cases. Know your limits and know the reality of the energy required before you start. Once magic starts moving and bending to your will and it takes on your intent, it must continue through fulfillment unless a more powerful force interferes to counteract it.” He takes a moment to evaluate my expression to see how I’ve kept up, but if he’s hoping to have gone too fast, he’ll be disappointed. What he’s said makes sense. More sense than I expected it to. “Do you have any questions so far?”

“I have a riddle for you then. Have you heard about the sleep disturbance I had at the House of Lamentation?” I hope he has, I don’t feel comfortable giving him information he wasn’t already privy to, but I need to know. It’s not that I don’t trust Lucifer’s work, but there’s factors in play I don’t know about and I can’t trust that. Solomon nods his head. Sweet. “Cool, so yeah. We found that the dependent factor was my being asleep. It could only impact me in my sleep, but sleeping in different areas of the house with different warding didn’t seem to change the impact, until Lucifer did something in the attic. What was likely going on there?”

“Well, that is a tidy little riddle now isn’t it? Well, the attic had to be housing something that was enacting magic actively while you slept. How it knew you were sleeping I would love to know, but some demons do have domain over dreams and sleep, as part of their own natural abilities. In cases like this, they can feel it when someone is in their domain and act accordingly.” I nod along, as this makes sense, despite my having thought it was a ghost or something similar. Fuck. I should ask about what creatures and entities are real and what aren’t, and how they differ from fairy tales. “If this is the case, then a proximity ward could be put in place to prevent them from either feeling that you’re in their domain, keeping them from acting on your dreams, or if it cannot do that, the ward may prevent their powers from being used beyond that ward.”

“That makes sense. It brings up another important question though. Are ghosts or spectres, or other similar entities real? And if so, could they have been responsible for such a thing?”

He’s pleased by my question, and for the life of me I can’t pin why. “That is a good question. No, they are not real, not in the sense that you’re thinking anyway. The dead can leave memories or shadows behind in the human realm that act out a memory or leave behind a shadow of their emotions, but such things do not carry over to the Devildom or the Celestial realm, and they are not actual beings that can have agendas, so much as magical intent left behind by strong feelings. So, in short, no, no such thing could be behind whatever has assaulted you in your sleep. Demons are the only beings that could reasonably have done so. A human mage has powers that could accomplish it, but without the power over the domain of dreams or sleep it would take too much energy to act out what you’ve experienced. Especially without the bed itself being cursed.”

I’ve been led astray. I almost think he’s pleased that I’m not just accepting what explanations I’ve been given, and well, if that’s so, then I think I might learn to understand him well enough to trust after a certain fashion. “Sweet. I love knowing I’m being lied to. Please keep this line of questions to yourself, if you would.”

“It goes without saying, I’d be pleased to keep this between us.” His grin could cut through flesh it’s so sharp now. If I didn’t know better, I’d say that either he cares about me, or I’ve stumbled upon some larger conspiracy he’s holding a grudge against. Either way, I feel comfortable trusting that this will remain quiet. He does know more about this than he's offering though. Or, he might be waiting for me to ask the right question. He seems like the kind to make you earn what he knows, but has no compunctions with sharing any and all information he feels you've earned. Regardless of whether he has the right to share the info or not. I can work with that.

“My next question then is about the factors that determine how much magic will be used up in carrying out some magical task. How do you tell? Is there some set of rules to learn, or is it more a set of skills that can be used to tell such a thing?”

“If only it were a set of rules.” He seems genuinely wistful at the thought. “No, it is indeed a set of skills. Some can see magic and will use this sight to measure what needs to go into a spell or ritual, or what have you, while some can feel it, and still yet others must use divination of some kind to measure.” Huh. I should have expected such a varied answer.

“Alright, is the sight or sensing things something that can be taught, or is that more along the lines of a gift you have to already have? And what forms of divination are you referring to?”

“And here, my dear, is where we hit upon the subject of our next tutoring session. Trust me when I say you won’t want a rushed explanation of this one. That aside, are there any other questions you’d like to put on the table while we’re here?”

“Yes, pacts. What is their impact upon a human soul? I know I’ve heard you have a lot of them, so I figure you must be an authority on how pacts work. I admit, I’m beyond curious about the whole matter.” I’m not sure it was vague enough for him not to know I’m involved in a plot, but I’m not sure I could have hidden such a thing from this man anyway.

“Aha, you’ve got me there. Well, I can explain how to use a pact and some of the effects you might feel depending on who you might form a pact with, but the effect on the soul is actually a bit beyond my sphere of expertise. For that I think Simeon may be your best bet. Or Diavolo, but for your sake, I’d ask Simeon. Would you like me to set up a meeting time with him for you?” He knows more than he’s saying, but I don’t know what it’d be to call him out on it. Either way, the referrals are likely for the best anyway. And Simeon is gorgeous, I can’t deny wanting to spend more time around him, even if this isn’t the topic I’d have chosen for our first real conversation.

“I’d be tickled pink if you would. Please, and thank you! That would be a genuine delight.” I want to understate how pleased I would be to meet with Simeon, but I sense that I’ve failed wildly in this. Solomon’s expression says that he’s only just holding off from laughing at me outright. I do appreciate his sense in not just laughing at me openly. I won’t say as much, of course, but I think he can see it. Yes, this is a man I can have silent conversation with on occasion. He reads between the lines as much as the lines themselves, I think. Maybe we’re not so different after all. This gives me so very much to think on.

“Of course. I’ll message you with details once I know more. Now, I think your escort is here for you.”

I turn around, alarmed, and Lucifer is looming in the doorway, like the ominous motherfucker that he is. I can’t think fast enough to stop my hand from coming up to press over my upper chest. I was too startled, I need to find a way to get used to being snuck up on by these fucking demons. “Y’all need to wear bells. I swear I’m going to have a heart attack from being snuck up on by one of you jerks one of the days.”

I stand up as Solomon does the same, we reach and shake hands before I stoop to grab my bag and stuff my notes and things into it. “Until next time. Thank you, Solomon.”

He simply nods and makes a swift exit, Lucifer stepping aside briefly to let him pass. I stroll up to Lucifer and can’t help asking the obvious. “Does this mean you’re walking me back to the House of Lamentation today then?”

He offers his elbow for me to take as he answers. “That it does. Do yo have everything you need for your homework this evening?”

“I do. Shall we?” And with that we’re off. He does manage to keep a reasonable pace for me to keep up with this time. It would almost seem companionable but I can tell he wants to pry into the tail end of our lesson. Something inside me says this is the perfect time to pry about Mammon, but I don’t know if it’d be too much of a hint with this kind of timing. Depending on how much he heard.

Fuck it. “So, as the eldest among your brothers, I feel obliged to ask if there’s more you can tell me about my assigned guardian. I admit, I am a little more than curious as to why he was chosen for the task of watching out for me and keeping me safe.”

He chuckles before deigning to reply. “As he is my brother, I don’t want to say anything unkind about him, so I’ll try to be sparing in my criticism.” Lucifer then pauses to clear his throat, then continues in a clear tone. “He’s pure scum. The scummiest sort of scum. Pure, unfiltered, disgusting scum to the point that I’m embarrassed to call him a fellow demon, much less my brother. Was there any certain reason you ask, or just curiosity?”

“Well, as helpful as that was, I was more hoping to understand his appointment as my guardian. Trying to sort how safe I really am under his care, how much I should take care to watch out for myself in ways that he ought to be. What his weaknesses are that I should beware of. That type of thing.”

“I appreciate the implication that you think I know his weaknesses, and can exploit them at my leisure. It is, I suppose, true enough. Do rest assured though, this is not the only reason he cannot say no to me. His appointment as your guardian is because he is second only to me in strength. Should the occasion call for it, only I would be better suited to protect you. As scummy has he is, he has his uses. Especially with certain weaknesses of his frozen, as it were.” He then takes a moment to laugh to himself. “Does that put your mind at ease a bit?”

“It does. Thank you. I can understand that there is more to him than meets the eye, and I respect your judgement if you have approved his suitability in my protection.”

His eyes are half-lidded as he meets my gaze, and I feel his arm move to pull my hand into his grasp. “You may rest assured, I will not let the exchange program suffer, and thus Diavolo or yourself, be disappointed. You are as safe as can be under my administration, Princess.” Still starstruck, and caught in his gaze, I allow him to link his fingers with mine and uses his gasp on me to tug me into motion again. Soon enough, we’re at the house and he leaves me at the door to my room to settle in for the evening.

I let myself in and get into some comfy clothes. A tea length circle skirt with a wide elastic waistband, a long lacy tank top and an even longer knit cardigan with pockets on each side and only the top few buttons done up. Nothing too confining, but not sloppy looking either. Since I have a feeling Leviathan will want to move on this hint as soon as possible. I sigh aloud and take a seat on my bed as I go to text him.

Me: On our way back home today I asked Lucifer about Mammon’s weaknesses, couched in a question about how suitable he is as my guardian, and he mentioned something about exploiting Mammon’s weaknesses not being the only reason Mammon does what he says, especially with a certain weakness of his frozen. Have any ideas what we can do with that?

I can see the little bubble going back and forth indicating that he’s typing, and either I’m in for a wall of text, or he’s retyping a few times. I hope it’s the latter.

Leviathan: Are you positive that’s what he said?

Me: Absolutely sure. That was almost verbatim. I’d have to repeat the whole conversation back to make the verbatim quote make sense, but if you’d like I can just so you can be sure. 

Leviathan: You really think you can remember it that well when it sounds like it was in passing?

Me: My memory is built on remembering exact quotes, it’s what I do. I can repeat the literal whole conversation for you if I’d like. I’d do it better orally, vs over text, but I can make it work either way.

Leviathan: Whatever, you seem sure of yourself so there should be only one place he’s put it based on what you’ve said. We will need to check it out tonight, so after dinner keep your phone on hand and when I text you that I’m ready, get to the kitchen immediately.

Me: Yes, Sir! I’ll be there with bells on.

Leviathan: Please don’t, you’ll need to keep absolutely quiet, and don’t say a word about meeting me if you run into anyone. Got it?

Me: I’ve got it. Quiet as a churchmouse, and I won’t say a word about you to anyone I might accidentally meet. I’ve even got a plan for what to tell Beel if he’s in the kitchen and wonders what I’m doing there.

Leviathan: Good. TTYL

I want to be irked that he wants me to keep him out of it, but I acknowledge that the fewer people that know we’re working together, the better, especially until we’ve actually got the card in hand and have Mammon in a pact with me. Fuck. I wanted to wait until I talked to Simeon though. Shit. What if I can’t wait until I talk to Simeon? What If I have to act on it tonight or lose the chance? Levi’s right though that we have to get the card tonight, if Lucifer knows I understood his hint he might re-hide it somewhere else. I can text Simeon though. I know Solomon said he’d talk to him about a meeting, but I can’t go into this without at least an idea of what I’m doing.

Me: Hey, Simeon, this is Cherie, the human exchange student. I hope I haven’t texted you at a bad time, I just had a very important question before things get out of control. If I were to make a pact with a demon, but not use my soul as leverage to get them to agree to the pact, does that taint my soul, or corrupt it?

No bubble showing he’s responding, and actually, he hasn’t seen it yet. I will need to put the phone away or I’ll drive myself up a wall with it. I opt to do my reading homework first, and see if I have time for the rest before dinner. It would be nice to be all done before dinner and the chaos sure to follow.

I finish the reading easily enough and even get through the one worksheet I was assigned just in time to head down to the dining room just a little early. When I get there, I find Asmodeus and Satan there already, chatting over some tea. I take a seat near them and pour myself a cup. As I settle in to listen I find that they’re just talking about a play a local group is doing through the end of the month. Satan seems into it because it’s a mystery, and Asmo is enamored with the costumes and how pretty the lead actress is.

As much as I’d like to go, I don’t think inviting myself would go over well. It would be amazing to attend demonic theater productions, how many other humans have had the chance to see such a thing? And with beings so long lived, I can’t imagine how refined their acting skills could be. Ugh. I feel myself daydreaming just thinking about it. And really, if I’m here to engage in cultural exchange, I Should attend the play, really. I shake myself out of my reverie and find that Satan is watching me from the corner of his eye. He wants to say something, but is otherwise engaged. 

I tune back in to hear, “But is the production enough to merit the beautiful likes of moi to attend it? I can’t just show up at any old show, Satan. Think of what they’d say if I show up at some tacky, poorly reviewed play! It’s expected of you, a scholar, but someone as gorgeous as myself? I could never bear the embarrassment of it.”

“Asmo, do you want to see the show, or not?” It sounds like Satan has been hashing this out for longer than he has the patience for. I can’t blame him, not really. I’ve never had patience for people who care too much for what others think of them. It is a thing that is beyond me. No matter how vigorous your control over what people see or hear of you, the masses are a fickle creature, given to whimsy and whatever the cruelest outcome is. I can only imagine that goes double for demons.

“It’s more complicated than all that, Satan! Why don’t you understand this struggle? I’ve already explained what I need before I can decide.”

I can’t help myself by now. “Asmodeus, surely someone as fashionable and important as yourself _sets_ the trends whenever you do anything publicly, right?” The idiot’s hand goes to his chest, as if offended. I plow on. “If you chose to go, would it not make attendance of the play suitable for the highest echelons to attend and fall in love with, right? If that’s so, then as long as it’s a good play, a good story, with good costumes, which I do believe was already covered, then it comes down to whether you want to go or not. Fawning over your choice should follow accordingly.”

“Thank you, Cherie. It is a celebrated story, with incredible production value, gorgeous music and intricate costuming. Since we are the rulers of the Devildom, we have open invites. You may attend with us as well, if you’d like.” Satan’s smile almost seems genuine, but I can see something steely underneath. It’s interesting to note their position in society when they’ve put so much emphasis on their position within the school so far.

“I would love to! It sounds like the most amazing opportunity, I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Thank you so much for the invitation to join you there.” The smile on my face scrunches my eyes and I can feel my cheekbones rise with it. It’s one of those smiles I know makes my brow smooth out and my forehead looks even bigger. I can’t help it though, I love the performance arts. I love theater and music and dance, and I haven’t had the pleasure of indulging since I was in school full time with only one part time job. It’s been too long. It had been long enough since the last time then, that one of the song played at that concert made me cry openly. Granted, the piece was remarkably emotional and was performed with such pride and joy and love, it was a moving experience. “I’m so psyched.” Shit, I didn’t mean to say that out loud. Oh well. It made both Satan and Asmo smile.

“I suppose I will have to go after all. We’ll go to that mani-pedi appointment this weekend and I’ll take you shopping and dress you up perfectly for it, Kitten. We’ll be the belles of the ball, as it were.” The grin on his face is almost vicious in its joy. I feel a thrill go down my spine just looking at him. To be the focus of his attention is a very intense thing, regardless of what I think of him. I turn to look at Satan, but he is the cat who caught the canary, and I’m feeling a little feathery.

Before the terror and frustration can begin to overwhelm me the rest of the demon brothers filter in almost as one. Lucifer decides to attend with us, but Mammon has better things to do, or so he says. Hobnobbing with the other nobles when he can’t even swindle them probably just doesn’t sound like his idea of a good time. He doesn’t appear to have the same ease of manners that the rest of his brothers likely do among social elites. Odd for the second eldest, in my opinion, but Lucifer may just be too prideful to give him many chances. If so, he’s screwing himself in the long term by not teaching him.

Beel didn’t wanna go because he couldn’t eat during, and Levi didn’t want to for obvious reasons, so it would be just the four of us. Lucifer agreed that letting Asmo dress me up would suffice, and Satan opted to confirm which showing we’d be attending, while Lucifer arranged for transportation there. The theater is not in the nearby shopping district, so we’ll be taking a horse and carriage, and honestly, if it doesn’t use spooky cool horses, why bother? We’ll see I guess.

I want to ask Lucifer about the snack cupboard he was supposed to set up for me, but I’m planning on using it as my excuse to head to the kitchen to meet Levi after this. Which means some guess work once I get into the kitchen, because I do want to check it out regardless of the meeting with Levi. I need to know I have safe food that Beelzebub can’t get into, and that I can easily snag to take with me to school and when going out. I have a basket in my kitchen at home that I stock with little bees wax fabric pouches wrapped up around fruits, sandwiches, nuts and little reusable sealable cups full of whatever sounds good that week, lidded up, and shittons of protein bars and granola bars in their individual wrappers, all ready to go. I offered to do my own prep here too, but they assured me there was no need, they’ll just secure a cabinet for me that only I can get into and keep it stocked for me. A little heavy-handed, but I have a feeling I just have to get used to that here.

Soon enough my D.D.D. vibrated with a notification. I didn’t want to be rude, but I couldn’t wait.

Simeon: IT’S COMPLICATED BUT THE SHORT ANSWER IS NO. DO YOU WANT TO MEET TOMORROW TO TALK ABOUT THIS MORE?

Oh my god. I giggled to myself. He texts like an old person. I have to see if he’ll let me teach him about caps lock vs typing like a regular person. What an adorable being. I got a raised eyebrow from Lucifer, who had sat near me again, but I just laughed and gave a short reply. “Simeon appears not to be very tech savvy yet, he replied in all caps. It’s pretty cute.” He just nodded with a small smile and went on with his meal.

I typed out a quick response and stashed my D3 back in my cardigan pocket.

Me: I would love to! Please just let me know when and where you’d like to meet and we can make it happen. Thank you so much for your time and consideration. :)

Eventually, everyone finished dinner, and though I likely spaced out a lot, there seemed to be no sign that anyone thought Levi or I were suspicious at all. Levi was one of the earliest ones to leave the dining table, and I was one of the last. I’d always been a slow eater though. I’ve always chewed very thoroughly and taken small bites and allowed ample time between bites. Yes, it’s made for some awkward dinners with boyfriends’ families when they all eat quickly and want to wait for me to serve dessert, but its how I am. If someone had convinced me as a child, I might’ve been swayed, but somewhere in my teen years, someone tried to comfort me about it by giving me the fun fact that the human body takes about 20 minutes to register that it’s full. I instantly committed to the habit for life.

Only Beel was still eating when I dismissed myself and returned to my bedroom. I worked on reading ahead a little bit before getting bored and deciding to explore my D.D.D. a little bit. Halfway through reading through all of the settings, I got a text notification.

Leviathan: Get to the kitchen now, noob!

Bossy fucking nerd. I put my phone to sleep though, stowed it in my pocket, and casually exited my room without looking around first. The key is acting like I belong where I am, acting like I belong out in the hall wandering about at this hour. I met nobody on the way, but upon getting into the kitchen itself I can hear something noisy going on inside. I doubt Levi for a moment and wonder if that idiot is already looking around for the card and not being careful, but I dismiss the thought just as quickly. It’s probably Beel. Eating again. Or Still? Either way, he’ll probably ask, and I’m just here for my cupboard. No sense in even thinking about seeing Levi here.

Upon entering, I am confirmed correct. There’s no sign of Levi, only Beel digging around in the fridge, eating. I opt to greet him first, “Hey, Beelzebub!” and walk past to the counters on the other side of the fridge to look for any indication that one of these cabinets is for me. A moment later, Beel pulls his head and shoulders out of the fridge to observe me.

“Are you hungry too?”

“Nah, I’m still full from dinner. I was getting my things ready for tomorrow though, and realized I forgot to ask about the snack cabinet Lucifer mentioned getting set up for me, so I thought I’d come and check to see what I can find. Did he happen to mention anything about it to you?”

“He did. He mentioned that I might smell some food I can’t get to, but it’s for you so I’m not to touch it. I think the cupboard you’re looking for is the bottom one in that corner.” and he points to the corner directly across from where I’m currently at.

“Thank you! Lemme see what we’ve got.” I nearly skip over to that corner and as I get close I feel a pulse from the left of the bottom corner cabinets. I touch it and hear something that sounds like its unlatching. Sure enough, it opens up and I find shelves of little serving sized pouches of nuts, trail mixes, chocolate covered dried fruits, regular dried fruits, bars of dubious sounding content, and bottles of what appear to be sports drinks. I grab a sports drink with a picture of a peach on it, or it looks like a peach anyway, and a pouch of a mix of nuts and some chocolate covered fruits. It’s not quite a trail mix, but it looks tasty for tomorrow morning between classes. I know magic was probably involved, but it still feels very personal and I’m overcome by a feeling of warmth. It’s not often I feel so taken care of.

I vaguely heard Beel talk about having emptied the fridge and seeing about an apple in Lucifer’s study, but I’m still taking inventory of my stash. Another moment later, I hear a “Pssst!” and “Hey!” from a shadowy area of the kitchen near where I’m at. I shut the cabinet and turn around to try to see where Levi is hiding. He’s not coming out though.

“Master Otaku? Is that you, Sir?”

I hear sputtering before a lightly pink Levi steps out from the shadows. Literally. I think he was like, chilling, as shadow, and just like, re-manifested in his human-like form. I had almost forgotten I was dealing with demons here. Mental reminder renewed, these are some mothertrucking demons! Half of my brain feels like it’s melting in incomprehension while the other half boils over with irrational lust. I tsk at myself internally, now is **not** the time to be thinking like a monster fucker. Something in me screams that this is _exactly_ the time to think like a monster fucker, but that part is the part that has kept track of the fact that we haven’t felt a real dick in about 7 months now, so that slut is biased.

He’s trying to scowl at me through a vivid, if pale, blush, but I decide to speak up instead of waiting for him. “Aren’t we like, on a time sensitive mission here? Where did you want to look for it?”

“He has to have put it in the freezer if it’s been frozen. I almost can’t believe he’d put it there, but let’s get to it!” He then power walks to the freezer and starts digging around and moving things out of the way. We spot it all the way at the back, in a big ol’ block of ice behind some ancient ice cream. The insufferable Hermione-like part of me wants to check the ice cream and see how it compares to modern human ice cream, but I squash it like a bug and just barely yank Levi away from the fucking microwave.

“No! Ohmygod you fucking nitwit, that’ll demagnetize it and it’ll become useless, we’ll lose our leverage! We’re putting it in the sink and running water over it. That’ll melt the ice quickly and without damaging anything. It’s quieter too, most likely. Fuck.”

“Oh! Good thinking, newbie! How hot of water should we use?”

“Just room temp, don’t go hotter or we won’t be able to touch it easily and make our getaway if we need to. By the way, what if Mammon finds us before it’s out?”

“Easy, I throw you in the sink and he’ll have to touch the human to get to it, so it’ll take hours for him to stop being an idiot about it and we’ll be in the clear.”

“Wow. That’s fucked up. I thought we were allies in this. Throw me in the fuckin sink. That’s messed up.” The words are barely out of my mouth when I feel his hands on my hips, and he’s planted my ass right over the ice, into the sink. He’s standing in front of me, hands now on my waist, like he’s about to faceplant into my boobs.

It’s only at this point that I finally hear what he heard well before I did. The door swings open and slams against the wall behind it, and his voice rings out. “Oi! What the fuck do you think you’re doin’? Eh?!” The ice is low enough that it doesn’t actually touch me, so I wonder if I can dig it out. I lean forward to whisper in Levi’s ear.

“Senpai, I think you might need to turn around and guard me from your big brother.” He groans, but he does let go of me and turns around to face Mammon. They start arguing back and forth, but I gather my skirt and reach a hand between my legs towards the ice, and after a bit of rooting around, I feel the card and reach my other hand down behind myself. I pass the other hand the card and lean my chest down to hide behind Levi. Behind his shadow, I slip the card into my bra, and then slide my arms around Levi’s neck to hang down over his chest. While Mammon sputters about nothing, I whisper in Levi’s ear again. “Got it, now or later?”

Damn demon’s heightened senses. “Oi! Oi! What’re you whisperin’ about?! What are you two actually doing here? Break it up, fuckin’, get away from ‘er, Levi.”

Levi instead turns around and pulls me out of the sink. I hadn’t seen him do it, but he got the water off before throwing me in, so I’m actually only minorly damp around the hips where I bumped into the sides of the sink. He sets me down just in front of the sink and counter, before turning around to hide me behind himself.

“We have something you’ve been missing. Something Lucifer took away from you. And we can give it back, but we have some demands first.” Levi’s voice is strong, and I feel my breath go a little short at how in control he’s being. The urge to do wholly inappropriate things to him weighs a little heavy, so I compromise and latch onto one of his arms. He’s too preoccupied to notice, I think, as he makes no outward reaction.

“Something Lucifer took? Do you know where my Goldie is?!” He pauses for a moment and Levi nods. “Sure! Anything you want! Just hand her over!”

“I want the Seraphina figure you won,”

“Sure! Whatever fuckin figure, I’ll even help you find it in my room and it’s yours.”

“I want you to pay me back, in full, immediately.”

“Ugh! Really? Fuckin, whatever. Fine! Now gimme!”

“Ah ah ah! No, we have one more demand. You’ll make a pact with the human as well.”

“Sure thing, pact. Wait, fucking what did you say?! No. No way am I making a pact with some stupid human. Just, I’ll give you your money and the figure, so gimme Goldie back!”

I assert myself here. “It’s the pact, to enforce the other two conditions, or nothing. I might just call Lucifer and let him know I found something he might want back. I”m sure he’d be grateful to know it’s no longer hidden, that way he can hide it even better.”

“Nope! No need to get Lucifer involved! You’ve got yourself a pact, human.” He picks my right hand from where I’ve wrapped it around one of Levi’s arms, pulls it towards himself a bit and kisses it. I feel a livewire of heat from the point of the kiss to where I see some runes settle in the shape of a ring around my index finger of the same hand. Before he can shout, I pull my hand back and lean away from Levi so I can reach into my shirt. They both watch me pull the credit card out of my bra, and I lean back over to hand it to Mammon. He had gone pink upon noticing where I had the card, but once it’s in hand, he reverts immediately and starts cooing at the card and whispering sweet nothings to it about being rescued from being kidnapped and wow. It’s a bit much. 

“Levi, I’m getting a little queasy. Watching him like this is gross. Do I need to give him any commands to make him give you your ends of the deal?”

“No, go on back to bed. The pact will need to have its terms carried out before long, I’ll just go with him myself.”

“If you’re sure. Text me if you need anything, and once you’re back safe in your room with your stuff so I know I can rest easy. Okay?”

He smirks at me a little and just assures me he will. I’m not sure if he’s just trying to placate me, but I won’t push it. I don’t want to get caught and get in trouble with Lucifer so soon into my stay here. I hug his arm once more before letting go and dashing off back to my room. If I miss further bickering about my open affection, that’s alright too. Levi likely knows my intent, and if I had to wager money on it, is probably denying there’s anything going on. Because from his side, there’s not really. Yet.

Upon getting back to my room I strip and shower. Upon getting out of the shower I find a text from Levi confirming that he got his money and figure. I have a text from Mammon complaining that I’d better be on time tomorrow morning. He just likes to complain at me, I think. I dress lightly and set an alarm before climbing into bed.

I’m glad to know my soul isn’t tainted just by making the pact. I don’t know what to think of the afterlife now that I know heaven and hell are real. After renouncing my faith, I kind of came to the conclusion that either I’d reincarnate or just cease to be, and in either case, after death I don’t have to worry about being me anymore. It was this promise of release from identity after death that I found comfort in. That eventually, it would just end, I would just end. I’ve only really stopped wanting to die prematurely within the last year or so, which is ironic, given that staying alive has gotten so much harder in that same time span. Unrelated, unfortunately, but finally snapping the tethers to suicidal ideation was fucking difficult and I’m still young enough that I’ve spent more of my life wanting to die than not. One of my goals was to turn that ratio around, and I know the exact holiday I’ll celebrate that on, but beyond that, the idea of passing on to a realm where people know me already, even if just one or two, and I have to remember my whole life and continue being the person I have been until then? That’s some real existential horror. Maybe if I die and go to heaven they’ll do me the mercy of making it so that I don’t remember my human life as clearly, but who knows. I’ll have to ask, I’m sure.

If I do remember in either case, it becomes a matter of where I want my soul to reside. There’s something to be said for building a life here, but I’ve long since decided that I didn’t need God to be good. I like being a person I can be proud of. I don’t think my current level of sinning cuts it so deserve hell, but maybe it does. Maybe my crisis of faith does it. Maybe nobody here will have the answers I want. End of life planning before knowing about the Devildom and Celestial realm was bullshit enough, to add all this on top of it? Ugh, I have always hated the idea of immortality, but if I live forever I don’t have to plan for what happens to my soul, it just stays wherever I am, within whatever freedom of movement I have or can maintain. Solomon can probably tell me about that part. I can feel myself literally shudder at the idea of trying to live forever. I hate that plan so much. I hate that idea with everything I have. Maybe it’s unhealthy to hate the idea of immortality the way I do? But I’m sure I am happy with dying whenever fate or the universe or God wills it, at whatever old age that may be. Surely that’s a healthy attitude to have? Maybe. Ugh. I should have taken some melatonin before my shower. I’ll never fall asleep at this rate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: I'm American, this note, its American biased, I know some of this doesn't ring as true in other countries, but I've tried to write in a way that speaks to cooperation as possible. If I've failed, I apologize, but this is my home and once again, we have a chance to do something powerful and real here. I can't let that go. The international protests I've seen are gorgeous and I couldn't be more thankful. Thank you for your time and love, it means the world.  
> I have personally experienced the entitlement of the american police more than once, and racism is rooted in the patriarchy in my experience. There's hours I could spend on the topic, that's not what this is.  
> This is me trying to say a brief statement on what the protests are for, and some good ways to go about it.  
> If you're in a position of power, USE IT. If you are a member of a group who regularly gets listened to, SPEAK UP.  
> If you want to protest, make sure you know your part before you go out. Don't just go out without a plan and let chaotic anarchists get you to spend your time and energy on the wrong shit.  
> If you're white or white passing, dress in your Sunday best, and if you're able bodied enough, get in front of black people police look like they want to hurt. Literally get between the police and the people they want to hurt. It will at least slow them down, give others a chance to help step in, give someone a chance to start recording, and give the other person a chance to brace themself. If it works, they may even let you both go.  
> If you're not able bodied enough, find the cameras, find the press, and get the people near them into pretty photo opportunity situations. The police are doing this already, its only fair that we take our photo ops as well. All those photos of cops kneeling with protesters? A few minutes later those same scenes were the protesters being beaten and gassed. Its posed, its fake, and its meant to turn public opinion. Get out there looking as law abiding and respectable as you can, and be peaceful looking. Sing, talk with the people organizing, find out what you can best do to truly accomplish something. Take medical supplies if at all possible. Take water, watch a quick video or two first on riot medicine and how to flush chemicals out of eyes safely. If you have actual first aid training, combat medic that shit. Rubber bullets aren't actually rubber, they have metal cores, they can still kill. They're meant to be used indirectly, shot at the ground and hit the person on rebound, slowed and with less force. They're shooting people directly in the head, they're shooting to kill. Staunch the bleeding, and if there's actual medical help there, PROTECT THE FUCK OUTTA THOSE FOLKS. Different cities have already seen raids on med tents, attacks directly on nurses, Don't let that shit happen if you can help it!
> 
> If you can't go out, look for black content creators to consume the content of. Watch black youtubers, donate to mutual aid funds if you can afford it, or at least share the links and engage with black created content if you can't afford to donate. I know its rough out there. 
> 
> Lift each other up, protect each other, and don't forget, this is about making sure we don't have to worry about police killing another civilian again. All the time, police are out there indiscriminately killing people of color, mentally ill people, queer people, and intersections of all of the above. 
> 
> I'm never going to forget seeing a pair of police beat an autistic black man to death for stimming. He wasn't being dangerous or threatening, he wasn't hurting anyone, he was just keeping to himself, doing his thing. Police shouldn't have the unquestioned power and authority to do whatever they like, and until that right is abolished, none of us are truly safe.  
> Breonna Taylor was shot in her own home, asleep, because the police broke into the wrong house. Truly, the epitome of minding your own business and she's gone now.  
> I don't think I need even go into the history of violence from police against LGBTQ+ people, that is the reason for the season. Pride has a very long history as a riot, and don't you forget it.  
> The point is, don't do nothing. Do whatever even seemingly small things you can, and SPEAK UP. We need every voice, and if you disagree with the goals of the protests right now, see yourself away from any of my content. I want nothing to do with white supremacists and their ilk. I want nothing to do with people who value property over lives. I want nothing to do with people who value peace over justice. I want nothing to do with those who would uphold the current power structures and if that's you, we have nothing to talk about unless you wanna learn better. I won't be entertaining any debates though. If that's you, you'll be blocked, deleted, whatever options Ao3 has for me not to put up with your shit.


	5. Gods Messenger, Ungodly Ideas, and A Fluffy Boi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Answers from an angel, a short talk with Lucifer, and the return of a vital friend. It's a rather long chapter I think, I hope that's alright!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay! I started a new job and training has been too intense to spend any time writing until now. This chapter kinda got away from me in terms of length, but its a singular day, so it stayed all as one. I may rush to end this though as I think I do one shots better than longfic. Hopefully I have more time to write from now on. Thank you for reading!

In the end, I did fall asleep after another hour or so of existential crisis. I wake up tired, but not abnormally so for the night I’d had. I drag my body out of bed, despite how much I feel like I’d be better off just continuing to lay there, and take my pills, brush my teeth, wash my face, do my hair, and even get dressed and grab my bag before Mammon bursts in through my bedroom door. He looks like he was about ready to rant, but upon seeing me ready to go, just throws the door back open and walks out into the hall.

I follow after as quickly as I can, I don’t feel like testing a recently coerced demon first thing in the morning. Call it cowardice, call it self-preservation, I call it common fucking sense, with maybe an ounce of compassion. As we make our way to the dining room, I grab his sleeve and tug him to a halt for a moment. My guilt is eating me alive. He looks so upset.

“Mammon, I just wanted to apologize and explain myself briefly, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure, just make it quick, human.” He’s scowling at me, but he’s more put out that he doesn’t get what the point of this is than genuinely impatient.

“I am clinically anxious, just having this pact gives me such comfort, knowing I’m tied to you this way calms me like you would not believe. Yes, it did help Leviathan, but really, I wanted to feel more safe and secure here. I’m scared like, constantly here. With you, I’m a little less scared. And if it makes you feel any better, I intend to use the pact to command you as seldom as possible. I will avoid it whenever possible. I didn’t want the pact because of any power it might give me over you, I really just don’t want to feel like I’m about to die at any moment. If you still wanna be mad at me, I understand, but I thought you have the right to be mad for the right reasons.” I let go of his sleeve and took a few steps towards the dining room before a grip on the back of my jacket, between my shoulderblades, stopped me short.

“Not mad at you, dumbass. This shits just unfair. I dunno if I trust what you said about not using it on me, but you seem ready to follow my instructions so far. As long as you keep doing what I say, I think we’ll get along just fine. Just, don’t plot against me again.”

“I promise, I’ll plot with you from now on. Are we good then?”

He huffs a short laugh, before pushing me to keep walking as he replies. “Yeah, we’re good. Now get going, dummy. Don’t let Lucifer hear you talk about plotting with me. We’d never hear the end of it.”

We walk into the dining room to the ridicule of Satan, Asmodeus, and Leviathan. Less so Leviathan, since I think he’s trying to avoid taking credit for partnering with me in the whole endeavor, but I still shoot him the stink eye until he notices and has the grace to blush, shut up, and look away. Asmo and Satan though are just tearing into him. They have no compunctions about calling him variations of “stupid.” I lace my fingers with his and tug him into a chair next to me. I lean my head against his shoulder and whine at him to distract him. “Mammon, I’m too tired to remember what’s safe. Will you help me make up a plate? Pretty please?”

He looks at me, confused, before stuttering and agreement and plating a few things up for me. I remain leaned against him until he places the plate in front of me. “Now eat, weirdo. And get off me.” I chirp a quick thanks before straightening up and digging in. Over the top of my glasses I spot Asmo looking too interested in what just happened, and Levi looking a little like he’s clenching his jaw just a bit too tight. Satan is harder to read, but they’re quiet now. 

Lucifer walks in to a mercifully civil dining room. He looks about suspiciously, but settles down and very condescendingly congratulates me and Levi before eating his own breakfast a little too smugly. Levi is bright red through the rest of breakfast, and now Mammon is the one clenching his jaw. I wish I knew what I could say in front of Lucifer to knock him down a peg, but everything I can think of either gives him the wrong idea or makes him mad at me. I think the best I’m going to be able to do is to defer to Mammon whenever I can in front of Lucifer and just repeatedly trust him. I don’t know that I can really do that, but it's my plan for now. I dunno what to do about Levi. I don’t have the mental or emotional resources to apply to it though, so he’s just going to have to cope.

I turn to Mammon and ask, “How are we on time? I wanted to stop by the cafe before class if we can.”

“If we go now we should be fine. Come on, short stuff.”

“I am not that short! I am almost five foot nine!” I push my chair back and sling my bag over my shoulder. “And there, I was about done anyway. You good, bruv?”

“Shut up, yeah, let’s go.”

He stands and holds his elbow out awkwardly for me to loop my arm through before he stalks off almost too fast for me to keep up with. As he drags me away though, I shout back at Lucifer. “Thank you for getting that cupboard arranged for me! It’s perfect.” I follow it up with a little sweet smile, then turn around and latch on even more to Mammon’s arm as I try to keep pace with him.

When we get to the cafe, I have him help me sort out what’ll be safe and what isn’t and he talks me into getting the bufo egg milk tea, since I like boba tea back home, he says I’ll love this too. I end up getting him some cinnamon caramel monstrosity, but I’m glad to do it after the content sigh he makes after his first sip. I think perhaps we both had trouble sleeping last night. He did have as much to worry about with some random ass human coming along and trapping him into a pact within our first week of acquaintance. Who knows what my motives are, really?

I’m happy to link my arm with his again as he goes to escort me to class. I can hear him getting texts from someone, and I have a feeling he’s off to run some errand instead of going to class, but he does see me to the door of my classroom first.

In the break between one of my classes, I am greeted by the voices of Lord Diavolo, Barbatos, and Lucifer. Making this pact really was a big deal. I’m starting to freak out that I took this too lightly. I just got the okay that it doesn’t ruin the state of my soul and ran with it. I mean, I do appreciate the security I feel from it, but maybe I should have thought about this some more first. Damn Levi for talking me into this! Simeon and Luke make an appearance as well. While Diavolo teases Lucifer about Mammon being his cutest little brother and favoring Mammon, Simeon leans over to speak to me in a low whisper.

“I talked to Solomon this morning and we decided it would be best to have me talk to you before your lesson with him. I will meet you at the time and place you plan to meet Solomon and we’ll talk there.”

When he straightens up I just smile and give a timid, quiet “Thank you.” Luke warns me too loudly about not getting too close to demons, and is drawing too much attention to himself. “I will keep your warning in mind, Luke. In the meantime, I think a hug from an angel is just what the doctor prescribed. Would you mind doing the honors?” He blushes a bright pink but he takes on a serious look, saying that of course he would. He walks over and despite being smaller, manages to engulf me in a big bear hug. I feel so much brighter and lighter, the smile I give him when I thank him is probably too dopey and too big to be pretty, but the way it makes my cheeks hurt feels nice.

He solemnly takes his leave when Simeon does, and I promise to take care of Mammon when Lucifer asks me to upon taking his own leave of me before the bell rings. I get a doting smile from Diavolo and a small, polite quirk of the lips and a shallow bow from Barbatos. I’m so in over my head.

The odd bits I overheard from the conversation around Lucifer was interesting though. Mammon, his favorite? I have perhaps not got a broad enough perspective on their relationship. He did not deny Mammon’s cuteness that I heard. Not that he should have, Mammon is pretty adorable. It occurs to me though, I don’t know just what kind of brotherly bond these boys have. That might be part of the missing perspective. If Mammon is indeed his favorite, and Mammon is indeed a masochist, as I was warned, then they may in fact add up more clearly than I’d anticipated even just earlier this morning. Granted, I have always enjoyed getting my little brother in trouble whenever I can, particularly if I can do it without him knowing I wanted to get him in trouble. Never serious trouble, but little things that he’d be mad about. Things that would annoy him. It’s one of my favorite sports, annoying my brother without him knowing I’m behind it. Then he comes to me for comfort and I hug him and get to pretend I’m not an evil mastermind. It’s the best thing about being a big sister. 

I float through my own mind until the bell for the last class ends, and I’m suddenly struck with the horror of having to face the reality of God and my soul to a very sweet angel, in front of a dubious sorcerer I want to like. I usually want to like guys who want the worst parts of me. It’s a flaw. Ugh. I drag my feet to the meeting spot to find, that of course, Simeon and Solomon are both already there waiting for me.

I take my seat and before they can say anything, I blurt out, “So, what have I gotten myself into?”

Simeon gives me a wry smile while Solomon laughs quietly to himself. Simeon reaches out and takes one of my hands in his, then answers. “Well, in tying yourself to the Avatar of Greed, you’ve made yourself more susceptible to the influence of his sin, which puts your soul in a position to be at higher risk of corruption and the taint of that sin. If you can resist, overcoming such a temptation may help you overcome much of what would happily taint you during your time here. You haven’t ruined anything by your choice in making a pact with Mammon.”

I can tell he’s focusing on trying to comfort me, but I feel like he’s not leaving anything major out either. Still yet, I need to ask. I need to know. I need justice for the little girl who didn’t get to stay a little girl, who lives on, behind my ribs. I need to know for what did I renounce my faith, only to walk into the arms of demons, to reside in hell itself, with the apparent goal of remaining fit for the gates of heaven.

“What are my choices, really? When a human soul dies, is the Devildom that I will see while here what sinful human souls are bound for? If I fail, if I succumb to taint, what will happen to me? In your worst case scenario, what happens to my soul?” I can see Simeon gearing up to answer, so I hold up my hand to stop him. “Conversely, If I do resist, if I do find victory over temptation, what happens to a human soul who renounced her faith in a god who allows children to be beaten by their mothers, and answers that mother’s prayers for money to support drug habits? What would I really be in for, if I manage to make myself worthy of the Celestial realm after death? Why would I want to live in the realm of that kind of god? And is there any option where I just stop existing after I die? Any option where I stop being me after I pass on? Or at least any option aside from Heaven vs Hell?” Do I really have to choose? I refuse to believe that when it comes down to it, those two are the only actual options. If demons and angels are real, and so is magic, how can that be all there is to it?

His eyes shutter as I go on, but he must know that I can’t not have asked when given the chance. It’s nothing personal to him, but its everything personal to me. Usually I’d be less glib around someone like Solomon, but I can’t value privacy when this might be my only chance. If I waited and they have longer to get to know me, they’d keep this very situation from being able to happen again. Any idiot who knew me better would never let give me an open forum to ask about this shit.

I follow the philosophy that what I make no secret of, cannot be wielded against me, and used to hurt me. What I throw away as insignificant knowledge, gets discarded by others the same way. I know I’m screaming right now that this is not insignificant, but I would kill and die for this knowledge. I can’t just not know what the point of it all was. I have to find out what the long game looks like. I’m a poorly informed pawn at this point, but I know what I am, and thus can start to remedy the situation.

“I’m not the best representative to answer a lot of this, but I will do my best.” Simeon’s smile is strained, and having worked in hospitality and customer service as long as I have, I can see that it’s the very same one I’ve worn on the clock nearly my whole adult life. I’m going to get blurb answers that still guide me towards the light. I want none of that. I want real answers. I want to know what it was all for. I want to know what to plan for. I’m going to need more information aside from what I get from Simeon. I can already feel the truth of it in my bones.

“I’ve literally never had the best of anything for any purpose. This should be no different.” Harsh? Maybe. But seeing the tension in his shoulders wind tighter brings me a modicum of joy I probably shouldn’t revel in quite so much. I’m beginning to think ‘Fuck should’ though. If he thought he could guilt me into not getting answers because he doesn’t want to be the messenger for this, he’s got another thing coming. 

Hot or not, nobody stands between me and this level of existential crisis and comes out unscathed. Once again, I am reminded that nobody has my best interests at heart but me. And God help whoever thinks they have the right to bring me harm, or deny me knowledge which may lead me into harm. I will not stand for it. Others may not have taken care of me when I needed them to, but I take damn good care of me when I can, and when I need to. I am here for me when I need someone, and right now, I have never needed someone more.

He sighs, then begins. “I can’t give as much exact information on what happens to hellbound souls, but usually, no, most human souls to not make it to this area of the Devildom. You might be an exception, due to your connections, but Lord Diavolo would be the one to tell this for certain. That said, the Father Almighty does reside in the Celestial realm, where righteous souls go. Not in his very presence usually, but the same realm. Roughly.” He is fighting himself to keep his answers as far from inflammatory as possible, and as vague but correct as possible. He’s trying to be gentle with me, the poor sap. I’m not going to get every question answered to satisfaction. “The role of celestial beings in the human realm has diminished more and more as time goes on, but it is still a desirable destination after death. Short of immortality, there is no third option. There is no cessation to be, after death.” 

And I can hear the gong in my head. No escape from myself. No escape from being me. The one promise I had hoped might be kept, has just been taken from me. I try not to let my condemnation show, but I’ve never had a good poker face. Granted, nobody officially promised Atheists that we’d just stop existing, it was just the best theory they had to work from, so I accepted it too, desperate for something to make sense of the universe after turning away from my faith. The devastation of it is so great, so heavy, so terrible that I let my last question go. I’m not sure that even if there was a third option I’d want it after all this.

“You must understand, Cherie, exactly how protected and sheltered you will be the entire time you’re in the Devildom for this exchange. Even so, I’m sure you’ve already felt the imminent danger your very presence here poses you. You would never have need for fear or anxiety ever again in the Celestial realm. No unhappiness, no depression, no more loneliness ever again. No more physical pain. I know you have many loved ones there, just waiting to take you back into their arms.”

Oof, and there it is. I only spitefully care for my own self, but to bring up my family, he’s seen through me. As nice as no negative bullshit sounds, it sounds mega fake. And I bet the brothers I’m living with can attest to that. Angels don’t just fall if there’s nothing bad waiting in the Celestial realm. My heart breaks to think of never seeing my sweet Abuelo and Abuelita again. To see my adopted Grandma who introduced me to poetry. To see my childhood music teacher. None of this is the answers I wanted, but I don’t think he’s lying exactly. He’s biased, certainly, and he’s got an agenda, but who doesn’t? I certainly do.

“I know this couldn’t have been an easy conversation, Simeon, so I want to make sure you understand how very grateful I am to you for having it with me. I feel I should assure you that avarice isn’t a sin I struggle with by nature anyway, so I don’t forsee a lot of trouble with that. Especially since I now know I don’t have to worry that just making that pact has damned me. I absolutely still value being a good person, a person of value, and that is central to who I am. That will not change. I should let you get back to your dorm and let Solomon get on with our lesson though.”

Simeon, beatific expression firmly in place, places a kiss on my hand before assuring me of his genuine pleasure in helping counsel me, reminding me that I can go to him whenever I’d like. And that Luke would be overjoyed to give me a break from the no doubt chaos of the House of Lamentation.

I still don’t know where I fit in the grand scheme of things, but I take all this to mean that the lesser role the Celestial realm has taken in mortal lives to mean that no, even if I had been better, my prayers still wouldn’t have been answered. And likely, my mom’s weren’t either, she’s just got crazy wild luck. That kinda suits her as a person though, so I shouldn’t be surprised. I’m only mildly satisfied to know hers weren’t answered either.

After he takes his leave, Solomon gets close to me and whispers. “There is a third option. Immortality is real, as I may present myself as proof. Before you can call me on it, yes, I can die, but you must know how very old I am, don’t you?” At my nod, he goes on. “What he failed to mention about Devildom is that souls consumed by demons do not go on after death. They are absorbed like so much food.” He give me a pointed look. I think I understand the comfort of being torn into 72 pieces as an insurance policy after death. Especially a death that follows such a long life. I let out a ragged breath and collapse to rest my forehead on the table in front of me.

“You’re the real demon here, aren’t you Solomon? Nothing and nobody here has said anything so singularly tempting, and you knew that before you said it, didn’t you?”

The chuckle I expected never comes. “Sadly, no. I cannot consume your soul, but if you wanted it, I could help you find someone who would. Many someones. Cultivating a delicious soul  _ is _ an important part of that though. And overcoming intense, conflicting temptation gives it some very good flavor, or so I’m told. A few dashes of giving in to the select major sin also give it flavor, but you don’t want to overdo it. Usually pick one or two sins you prefer and abstain from the others at all cost.” The devious bitch. “Granted, any single claim to a soul can be contested before its handed over to the proper owners, so do take care to make your connections properly.” Fuck.

“I’m going to veer wildly for a second, and ask wholly unrelated stuff. What supernatural and fairy tale creatures are real? Are all of them real, random certain ones, or none of them? And how do they fit in with the relationship between the realms?”

There’s his stupid laugh. “Not all of them, and the creatures can reside in any of the three realms, depending on what creature they are they may reside in more than one realm. Many are not real, including some that seem too ridiculous to be fake. A lot of creatures that seem too elaborate and contrived to be real, are, almost as many of those are pure imagination though. And some have come into being based on enough belief in them. There’s actually a course here you can enroll in to learn the fine details of all that though.”

“What about the major ones?”

“Vampires aren’t strictly real, they’re a combination of other things. The creatures most widely known as vampires by those in the know are very different from what you will initially think of. Werewolves have always been fake. Fae are real, but they’re not numerous, and so are generally actually Celestial or Devildom realm residents, mistaken for other things. Or magical human beings, made into something more by word of mouth. I already told you about ghosts. Mothman is real but not nearly as hot as the internet would have you believe. Most tentacle monsters are just Levi, or his captains, and their pets. Dragons have been both Celestial and Devildom residents in turn. Sea dragons of note are usually Levi. Gods, Angels, and Demons are of course all real. Any other major things I missed?”

I want to cry. If I wasn’t half in love with Levi before, I am now. I can’t even think of what he missed, I’m going to have to reflect on what he said as is, but I’m sure he did miss some things that I felt it essential to know. I shake my head anyway. We’re going to run out of time. “Tell me about how to sense magic.”

“There are many ways to sense magic that tie into the sense you’re already used to using. Some have The Sight, and can actually visualize aspects of magic. Some are attuned to hear or smell magic, some can feel it almost like a physical thing, and anyone with even the smallest degree of proper magical education can sense it immaterially in some measure. This means is the most common, but the most imprecise. There are more mechanical means, which use crystals, pendulums, and other tools of the like, and we will test you with those later. For now though, just know that the use of tools to measure and examine and wield magic exist. For now we will focus on using your own senses to get you used to feeling for magic around you.”

“Close your eyes and try to see if you can feel anything from me. Emotions, location, anything, just see what you can feel and tell me as soon as you pick up on it.”

I do close my eyes and try to get a sense for whether he’s moved at all. Shockingly I don’t have that sensation that he’s right next to me anymore, but I didn’t hear anything either. “I feel something smug radiating smugness from somewhere to the right side of the room, away from me.” He barks a quick laugh.

“Good, try again.”

“Fucking get your bitch ass away from behind me. I don’t trust you back there yet.”

“What gave me away that time?”

“That feeling of eyes on me, I could feel I was being stared at intensely.” It’s a very familiar feeling. One burned into my blood by now.

“There we go. That feeling is very similar to how it’ll feel to detect magic in your surroundings. It’s not the exact same feeling, but if you shoot for that you’ll probably stumble across what I mean. You’re going to hate me for suggesting this, but try being aware for that sensation as constantly as you can until we meet tomorrow and we can talk about what you find.”

“You’re giving me homework this intense already? Rude.” Also rude that he’s basically asking me to act paranoid for the next whole-ass day.” Not that being paranoid is unfamiliar to me, on the contrary, it is familiar enough that I fear doing this will send me down that rabbit hole again. I try to reassure myself that being able to sense magic will mean I don’t have to actively worry about shit I can’t see coming for me, because I’ll feel it coming for me. I feel a little better.

“It’s good for you. And I think I should start investing more in your future.” Ah, there’s his angle.

“Good luck, I think there’s already a bidding war on that starting. I don’t think I’m necessarily even the one who gets to decide who wins, either.”

“If we strike early enough, you can be. If we try to strike too early though, you’ll just throw yourself into someone else’s chess game. I’m going to do you some favors with the intent that you consider joining me in relative immortality. As dangerous as deep magic can be, having a partner can help. Considerably. In many ways. You’ll begin to see what I mean as our lessons go on.” Self-serving is the motivation we’re going with then. I can respect that. If his best interests rely on serving my best interests we could make this work.

“I’m not happy about it, but I’m considering it. As much information as I can get is welcome.” Welcome isn’t the right word, but we both know I’m a pawn on some much bigger chessboards, and the more we know about the players and the other pieces the better we can navigate the boards. “Lucifer is coming for me already, isn’t he?”

“Very good! Just keep doing that, and we’ll be blowing through our lessons like leaves in the wind.” That’s not how he was going to phrase that, and we both know it, but Lucifer has opened the door behind me. I grab for my bag before standing up.

“Lucifer.” I greet, before turning around to see his raised eyebrow. “He didn’t tell me, I’m learning to sense magic, and your wavelength is one that stands out.” The idiot bird preens, before offering his arm to me. I fucking hate peafowl, the dumb cats of the bird world. Not to mention they’re loud as fuck. I wave goodbye to Solomon and take Lucifer’s arm. “To what do I owe the honor of having you escort me twice in a row?”

A dry huff of a laugh punctuates the air before he begins to speak. “I often stay late to do things for Lord Diavolo, so it’s easy enough to wait a little longer or shorter and take you myself.” I can feel the highest parts of my cheeks, just underneath my eyes go pink. Phrasing. I almost say it out loud, but I don’t want him to get the joke, not that I think he would anyway. He doesn’t seem like that much of a TV watcher. 

Ugh. At least its just convenience though. Eh, maybe it is convenient, but maybe he still distrusts Solomon. Given how many pacts he has, including pacts with powerful demons like Barbatos and Asmo, I can understand. It really looks like a power grab, it does. It’d be crazy to think anyone else could see it as the life insurance plan that I see it as. I’m not positive that’s how Solomon sees it, I don’t know him nearly well enough for that, but its close enough that he let me think it for now. It’s close enough that he knew it would appeal to me. It takes one to know one, after all.

“Oh, I heard a rumor that Leviathan has monster forms. Is that true? And would he hate me for asking to see them?”

There is a heavy silence as he considers. Fuck. I didn’t actually mean to ask, but I might as well have. No sense in keeping my proclivities private amongst those who’ve seen my toys. I shouldn’t give him ideas though. They might all have monster type forms. Woah. No, bad Cherie. Chill.

I’m here, walking next to him trying not to sound like a pervert, and he’s considering logistics I find out. “Most of his monster forms require him to be in water, and many are too large for his tanks, so you’d have to convince him to take you to the beach. I’d give permission if you can talk him into it though. He could use the exercise.” I could cry. I’m not only given a green light, I’m being encouraged. This is the last thing I needed, and its everything I have ever wanted. I will be unstoppable. I am so overjoyed, I feel I must be glowing, at the idea of being able to objectify a monster, in person, and this is real life. Holy Shit. I’m gonna cry or overheat and die, or both.

“Does the water at the beaches here differ from the beaches in the human realm, or could I swim with him?” Pleasepleaseplease say I can swim with him! I chant in my head as the dramatic bitch waits to answer me.

“The very same, there are parts of our seas and oceans that leak into those in the human realm, after all.” He knew that off of the top of his head! He didn’t need to make me wait to answer that!

“Oh. I wonder if that explains a few things.” I almost want to ask him how much of their oceans they have mapped out and how much they know about what lives there, but I have a feeling its shittons more than us. Probably because the weird shit that makes it hard for humans isn’t a factor, or is a lesser factor for demons. Basically immortal fucking monsters. I don’t want to ask though because I’m not in a documentary answer mood right now. My world is falling apart around my ears. Monsters are real and I can seduce one. Maybe. Probably. Eventually. Definitely eventually.

I can feel my heart pulsing between my hips. I am a mess. “Lucifer, I do believe I’ve overdone it today and may be about to fall over. Would you mind carrying me the rest of the way?” My knees are actually weak. I’m not just being dramatic. I’m also about to have a panic attack. I can feel my lungs closing in on themselves. I have never been so happy that I gave myself a panic attack, but there’s a first for everything.

Lucifer sweeps me up into his arms, and had apparently taken his cloak off already, as it too drops over my head. In the dark and with the noises around me muffled I suddenly feel very dramatic. I know that if I were to poke my head out I’d have trouble breathing though, so I just keep my head down and lean against Lucifer’s chest. I offer a muffled “Thank you.” He doesn’t bother replying, but it’s fine. 

This is fine. He knows he got a defective human, he’s just going to find out exactly how defective as time goes by, and I think he’s hoping to save his exasperation for some time later on down the road when it’s especially egregious. If he’s feeling generous he might be imagining I’m scared of being in the presence of monsters. My reaction is remarkably similar, despite the wildly contrasting motivation. The cloak may be dampening the smell of my lust, because my soaking panties are probably the only real observable difference between a fearful response, and my actual response.

As he takes the steps up to the House, he gives me one brief lament. “Do please attempt to refrain from falling apart spectacularly if he does go for it. He has probably the least actual familiarity with how to care for a human body out of all of us.”

His reply means nothing to me. It is not an indictment, and I mean, it’s a fair enough point. If all he does is watch anime and play video games he’s got a ridiculously skewed view of humanity. Maybe I should ask Mammon about it before I actually do go and fall apart in front of Leviathan. Before I know it, Lucifer has taken me to my room and left me on my bedspread. I’m grateful for my habit of making my bed in an inappropriately prioritized moment of mortification that I didn’t notice or hear anything Lucifer might’ve said up here, and instead I’m grateful he won’t see anything that makes him think me a slob.

I let myself lay where I’ve been left, bag still slung over my shoulder, and I just mediate on what I’ve learned for a bit. Lucifer took his cloak. I’m a little mad at him for doing so. I acknowledge that it’s irrational, but I feel it regardless. 

There’s nothing that truly makes me believe my failure is any less a factor in how the major events of my late teens panned out than it was before, save that maybe I was misled about “meeting God halfway” if I want my prayers answered. I’m a little bitter, if there is no real meeting Him halfway, then it’s still basically pieces falling where they may. And us, pathetic humans, are left to our own devices to play with the hands we’re dealt. Shitty hands, sometimes missing cards, or not. When its our turn, we’re expected to play on, no matter what. Whether we’re old enough to sit at the table or not.

Nothing has really changed for me, and I hate it. Save that there is a stupidly old sorcerer willing to be my buddy and long term life partner of sorts if it means we both walk away with more power, because it benefits him in some way. I’m still not clear on exactly why he’d be so interested in my power vs some other actually knowledgeable and practicing witch. Maybe I’m easier to lead? I’m a non-factor in human magical world politics. I’m not dumb enough to imagine there isn’t such a thing.

There’s more pieces on the board that I can’t see yet, and we both know I know it, but he’s going to give me enough pieces to see things his way. I need a lot more though. I hope Simeon will still be willing to help me. I know he’s biased, but he’s biased in opposition to about every other force around me. Probably. Maybe I should try Diavolo next. Or one of the brothers? But which one? Satan likely has the most technical knowledge, but I can see Levi, Mammon, Lucifer, and even Asmodeus having more actual esoteric knowledge.

Lucifer knows I’m floundering, and will expect probing questions.

Leviathan should be expecting me to harass him again some time soon. I don’t know how informed he keeps himself socially, but he’s pretty active on that phone of his, I hear him composing social media posts, so he’s got an ear to the ground at least. I already overheard Barbatos grumbling about what a hot gossip topic I am. Levi should be expecting me to have questions.

Mammon knows I have questions, but he’s already expressed a desire for me not to come to him with them. If I frame it as a traumatized human’s coveted trust, or respect for his power or some shit he might go along with it.

Asmodeus seems to straight-forward, and thus scares me. Beelzebub is kinda in that same boat. 

Satan, however. Satan I relate to at least on the level that his sin is the one I’m most prone to, despite a calm or anxious image I maintain. In public in the human realm, I am seen either statue calm, laughing too loudly, or crying. Those are my three moods. Rage is not seen as one of them. I’m the last person most people would suspect of struggling with my wrath. I haven’t had an actual instance of being legitimately angry in the presence of other humans in almost a decade now. The last people to see me mad aren’t even people I talk to anymore either, so there’s nobody to encourage a healthy fear of my temper. I feel like Satan and I are on very similar wavelengths.

That said, even if he can feel it, he doesn’t have a lot of motive to help me out. It’s clear enough to me that if it would frustrate Lucifer, I’d have an in, but Lucifer would probably consider answering my questions so he doesn’t have to helpful. And I just don’t see Satan as being super ready to be helpful to the eldest Avatar. He’d see though my pathetic attempts to misguide him and frame it as beneficial to him. I think that even if I found a way to frame it as an affront to Lucifer’s pride, he’d probably still tell me to go fuck myself. As neutral a statement as it is to me, I would still prefer not to be told to go kick rocks. I do still have some measure of pride.

I have the presence of mind finally to check my D.D.D. for the time. I have a little bit until dinner is probably ready, but I might as well go now, or risk getting stuck in my head and being late. I drop my bag at the desk in my room, slip out of my uniform, and pull on some black yoga pants and a pale gray sweater seemingly two sizes too big for me. It goes past my hips and gives me sweater paws, I’m a fan. I find a fluffy, purple pair of socks and change into them after applying another layer of lotion to my feet, then shuffle down the stairs to the dining room.

Mammon is there already, leaned back in his chair, face nearly glued to his phone. When I take the seat next to him, he looks over, blanches, and exclaims “What the hell is wrong with you! You look like death warmed over.”

“Oh, just a major existential crisis in debate over the fate of my soul. No big. Just feeling emotions about the fact that prayer is a hoax and trying to sort what this means for my life, and apparently also my afterlife. You know. Just casual bullshit one wonders while chilling among the rulers of the Devildom.”

“I’ve said it before, but you’re a fucking mess.”

“I know, buddy. I know. I can walk to and from my room though, so we’re good.”

“Liar. I had to carry you to your room after classes today.” Lovely. Lucifer has joined us and is feeling sassy. Or just bitter that he had to carry me.

“Hey. Fuck you, buddy.”

“You’d be too weak to be up to it right now, I’d wager. Make me the offer some time later when you can take it, and maybe we’ll talk.”

“Fuckin’ gross. Quit it, Luci!” D’aww, blushy Mammon is cute. He said gross, but I think that was more territorial than uninterested. He’s certainly seen enough of me to know if he’s interested or not.

“Awww, the cute little brother thinks talking about sex is gross. That’s adorable. Have you given him the talk yet, Lucifer? You’ll wanna get on that. He’s old enough to be starting to think about it.” 

My expectation to frustrate or gross out Lucifer is disappointed when he laughs instead. While Mammon sputters beside me, positively fuming. He crosses his arms over his chest and mutters a soft “Fuck off, both of ya!”

Suddenly, there is a knocking at the door. I look at Lucifer, who is already moving to stand. He flits from the room, swiftly flying through the door while still looking like he’s walking calmly. It’s got to be magic of some kind. I didn’t mean to, but I mutter aloud “How does he do that?”

“It’s part of his abilities as the Avatar of Pride. He never looks anything less than perfect, if he’s awake enough to concentrate on the ability, even vaguely. That’s why if you wanna get a picture of him that could embarrass him, he’ll have to be asleep for it. I’ve gotten the piss kicked outta me for tryin’ to get a picture of him asleep. Heh. It was like something out of a comedy when we were still figuring out what our powers did, trying to figure his out was fuckin’ stupid.” I bet. And fucking hell, what an ability. It’s like Barnie from How I Met Your Mother. Fucking black magic bullshit.

As I finish that thought, I hear Lucifer shouting my name from the door. Alarmed, I jump up and dash for the door. As I get close enough to the door to see anything, I make a run for it, sprinting with everything I have towards the figures at the front door. Once I’m nearly there, I skid to a stop in my socks, and reach out, open, grasping, grubby grabby hands at Barbatos, who holds my gigantic tuxedo cat. 

“My baby boy! Come to mommy!” The cat, upon hearing my voice, turns his head to me and starts writhing madly, trying to get to me. Barbatos, chuckling, hands the cat off, who immediately buries his face into my neck and wraps his paws over my shoulders begins purring loudly. He’s curling as far into my body as he can manage, which isn’t far since he’s the size of my torso itself. “Thank you, Barbatos!” I’m nearly in tears, but I get the words out somehow. I didn’t realize how much I missed him until I saw him. His silky soft fur is such a comfort. My weak knees finally do what they’ve been threatening off and on for days now, and I fall to my knees, clutching Darien closer to my chest. I sob while he wails crying meows back at me for a few minutes. Finally, I look up and see Barbatos’ wry smile.

“He missed you too, it would seem. He was screaming so loudly that it was interfering with the enchantments around your apartment and people began asking about you. He was also hiding on top of tall furniture and attacking any demon we sent in to feed him. There was no calming the beast. Better food, hormone plugins, catnip, spells, it all had no effect. He wouldn’t stop screeching until he could start smelling places you’d recently been on the way here.”

“I told you all so on the first day. Thank you though, for bringing him to me. What was brought in terms of supplies to care for him?” I finally look up and can see that Barbatos somehow has full arms again. A large box with food, toys, blankets, scratch pads, and such spilling over top of it, and a clean, empty litter box and matching dome lid.

“I will be installing litter boxes around the house for him anyway, so I’ll take his other possessions to your room. I should have everything of his here. If you find anything missing though, please don’t hesitate to let me know.”

“Did you get his stuffed ham?”

“It is in the box, he put it there though, actually. He’s a bright one. As soon as he saw me packing his things, he dashed off and came back with that in his mouth, seemingly helping me pack.”

“Yeah, he knows what packing looks like, and what it means. We’ve definitely done it enough times. Really though, I can’t thank you enough.” I pull one arm away to brace on the ground in an attempt to stand, and almost get it before an ankle twists and my knees give out again. I have just internally decided to just sit here when I feel Lucifer pulling me to my feet, hands wrapped nearly all the way around my waist. And damn, if that isn’t an appealing feeling. How big are his hands? Monsters, all of them. I knew it. 

Darien’s head bumps into my chin from underneath though, and I am brought back out from my head to nuzzle back at him. “My sweet boy, I missed you so much! My baby Dari-bear! I squish the boy.” And then I squeeze the cat in my arms as tightly as I can, his purring grows louder the tighter it gets, until I loosen my hold and he is like a diesel engine. I turn, with him, and toddle off towards the dining room.

Once back in the dining room, I can see that most of the other brothers have appeared since, and take my seat next to Mammon again. I settle further back into my chair before moving to settle Darien to lay against me in my lap. He’s so big, that even laying down, his face is at the level of the table. Satan seems very interested, so I decide to introduce him.

“Everyone, this is Darien. Darien, these are the demons I’m living with for the rest of the year. Darien is not allowed to have people food, so please don’t feed him anything from your own plates. He generally doesn’t beg, but I’d rather he not get in the habit. He is big, but not fat. It’s a lot of fluff, but he’s also just plain a big cat. He was a feral kitten I rescued, his mom was normal sized, if not small, so we think his dad was at least partly a Maine Coon. He likes being petted but hates being held by anyone but me. He does have his claws, and bites freely, so proceed with caution. He does love being brushed though, so that can be a way to get on his good side.”

Lucifer, now also seated, adds on. “Barbatos just brought him from her apartment in the human realm. He was making a nuisance of himself, meowing too loudly and it was breaking down the enchantments that were supposed to keep people from noticing she was gone. He resisted all attempts, both mundane and magical, to calm him, so he will be staying by her side until she returns. There was nothing else to be done. I expect none of you to harm him, just as I expect none of you to harm her.”

I lean down and drop a kiss on top of Darien’s head before sitting up and starting to eat. Darien just continues purring from my lap, and makes no attempt to move, unless its to snuggle closer to me. Mammon reaches over at one point, pats him on the head, and just gets a flicked ear for the trouble. It’s not a dislike reaction, so I’ll say that’s a win for now. When Mammon looks at me with a questioning expression, I just shrug. I don’t know if they’ll get along yet, so I just let him wonder. Once full, I lean back in my seat and scratch at my boy’s ears. I love how velvety soft they are, its always so calming. I heft him up into my arms and make to stand, luckily, this time I make it with no trouble.

I walk slowly and point things out to my fuzzy buddy as we go. Before long, Mammon’s familiar voice pipes up behind me. “Why you talkin’ to it? It’s just a cat, it’s not like it understands you.”

As if to make his point, Darien braces against my arms to look over my shoulder at Mammon, then swipes in the air at him. I laugh before replying. “He understands plenty well enough. Sometimes he doesn’t listen unless I yell at him in Spanish, because that’s mostly what I spoke at home when he was a kitten, but he does well enough with both languages, thanks. He also knows when people talk shit, so I’d watch your tongue. We’re not nice to people who aren’t nice to us.” I then lean my face back to make eye contact with Darien, before cooing. “Are we, Papas?” I get a headbutt in response, so I get back to walking and pointing things out again. I keep this up all the way to my room, where I make a grand gesture with one arm. “And here is our new room. This is home base for the next year or so.” I open the door, and drop him on the ground in the doorway, and let him sniff around before he walks in. He makes a short perimeter of the room first, smelling everything and rubbing his cheeks on things as he goes, before he makes a beeline to my new bed, where he jumps up and makes himself at home. Mammon didn’t follow us in, he turned away after watching Darien walk into my room, so I undress and head into my bathroom to shower. 

On the bathroom counter I can see a small care package of things Barbatos must have brought. He brought me my loofah on a stick, the goats milk lotions I buy from the guy at the farmer’s market, and all of the soaps I bought from those sisters at the renaissance faire. I was starting to feel itchy from the soaps that were provided for me here, so these are a very welcome sight indeed. I have sensitive skin, along with sensitive the rest of me. I also just really like using locally made stuff and supporting crafters in my community. Always buy local. 

Fuck. If I choose to stay, I’ll have to find new local artisans. Is that even a thing I’ll be able to do? Will locally made stuff be safe for human bodies? This is going to be the next few weeks, isn’t it? Just me doing normal shit and realizing some other aspect of all this that I have to consider. I know this is a literal whole life decision in the making, and its hard to fathom how many factors of your life your living situation holds sway over, but holy shit. This is all so overwhelming. I wish I didn’t have to make any of these choices, I wish someone would just take care of it for me. I always make the wrong choices, and this is such a monumentally huge one, I’m absolutely going to fuck it up.

I sniff at the soaps, and pick what I think I remember is sandalwood vanilla, the loofah, and head for the shower. Now I just need to figure out shampoo and conditioner. I might make my own again. Especially if the shit here keeps drying out my scalp the way it seems to be doing so far. Even leaving in my conditioner doesn’t seem to make a difference. Maybe with the good soap it won’t be so bad? We’ll see, I guess.

I’m lathering the loofah when I hear rustling of the shower curtains, and I’m only allowed the shortest second to be alarmed before black whiskers and the familiar white mustachioed face of my cat peers at me. He stands and props his paws against the edges of the shower, and decides just to watch me. “Pervert. Don’t you have better things to do than watch me bathe? Get out of here, you awful old man cat.” He flicks an ear at me, but otherwise doesn’t look like he’s about to go anywhere. “Whatever. If you let water out, I’m using your tail to mop it up.”

After I’ve rinsed off and settled myself, eyes closed, to stand in the stream of hot water, I hear the shower curtain swing shut again. I let myself steam for a few minutes, in contemplation, before turning off the water and groping around for my towel. Finding out to what extent my body can be healed I think will need to be the first question fully answered before I can really decide what to do. Or is it? Gods, I just need to have a good sit and write a list of factors so I can rank them in terms of importance and then re-rank in terms of how likely they are to be answered soon enough to matter, and once more in terms of how difficult each factor makes my life if it goes unanswered. 

Once I’ve patted myself dry, I wrap my hair up in the towel and begin opening my lotions, scenting each to see which I should go with. After testing them myself, I let Darien sniff the winner, and he slowly blinks at me before settling himself to lay down on the counter to watch me. That settled, I decide on the lavender amber scent, leaving the green tea pear and vanilla oak for another time, tucking them into my personal medicine cabinet.

I take my time to massage it into all of the skin I can reach, and do an extra round over my upper chest, which always seems to feel too dry and itchy, but especially since coming here. I can feel myself sigh in relief, its so nice to feel properly clean and moisturized and have a plan to make a few lists. Lists always make me feel better. I pull the towel off of my head, scrunch my hair up with the now loose towel to dry it a bit more, and hang it up. I then quickly braid my hair into a loose 3-strand plait and tie it off with a fabric scrunchie. Once he can see that I’ve wrapped up here, he stands and jumps down, ready to follow me back to my bedroom. We sweep out and he makes for the bed while I head to my dresser to put something on for the night. Thin cotton boyshorts make the cut, as does a loose tank top that goes down just past my hips.

I turn back to find my cat standing at the edge of my blanket, waiting for me. I pull the blankets back and slide in past him, before holding the blanket up for a moment so he can settle against my chest. I give him a moment to re-arrange, until his head falls on the pillow I’m also laying on. I then spread the blankets over us and hug him to me, feeling his powerful purr pull me under and into sleep.


End file.
